To Lose a Crown
by PrincessDragonWarrior
Summary: A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.
1. Prolouge

To Lose a Crown.

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Prologue,

Sansa, the eldest daughter of house stark. she felt both Mirth and fury at the sight of Arya in her satin gown richly embroidered with their house wolves. While she certainly did not love Prince Gendry, that had always been a task for Arya. But as with most all, if not all elder sisters who's younger sister marry before them Sansa was upset. However it stung all the more strongly due to it being her betrothed Arya was marring.

Arya, now Princess Arya turned to her sister. With her wide horse-like smile, she embraced Sansa. As they hugged, Sansa only felt jealousy who could think of nothing else but the crown resting upon Arya's head.

The New couple walked arm in arm towards the great Sept's door. Behind them the King, and Queen Cersei walked Sansa noted how proud the frail Queen looked. It was doubted she would live to see the next royal wedding.

Quickly following in the train of the Queen's ladies. Sansa reached the Sept door just in time to hear the assembled crowed cheer for the new couple.

Like a magpie, Sansa lamented for the shimmering gold and jewels Arya was covered in. She once again was drawn to the crown in miniature Arya wore.

It too had been styled like the wolves of their house, Sansa knew this as she had worn it a few times herself. Their father had after-all commissioned it for her wedding.

Sansa now knew what it was like to lose a crown, even if it was never really hers...


	2. Chapter One

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter One:

Sansa loved many things, finely laced dresses. blue eyes on handsome knights and all the attention she could possibly desire. However one thing she loved more than any of the others was a great tourney.

Regrettably, a tourney for the birth of Prince Steffon was less than enjoyable for the fair lady.

Distracted momentarily from the joust to watch her sister Arya with her new son. Sansa looked just back in time to see Lancel Lannister Fall flat from his horse.

The crowed erupted to cheers as golden locked Lancel dragged himself up, storming off field. all the while the victor rode up to the royal box, removing his helm to address the king.

King Robert seemed to be in a great mood, for one thing the Queen was absent. And the other, his favored Knight Ser Willas had won the joust.

"Ha!" Robert growled enthusiastically. "Any decent knight could de-horse a Lannister, but you Ser have done so with skill!"

"I thank you your majesty." Ser Willas replied cordially.

"You Ser will have any woman you desire in your bed tonight, or if you want one already in a bed the Queen likes visitors." King Robert and his court burst out into bawdy laughter.

Sansa looked round to the King's children, save for Tommen who attended his mother. Prince Gendry and Joffrey both seemed enraged by their father's cruel words. While Myrcella had gone pale and looked quite faint.

"Although that is a kingly offer majesty, I must decline." The king became slightly stoic. "Even a cripple such as I can find willing bed sport!" The king and his retinue burst into guffaws once more.

Sansa looked the knight over, he did not look crippled. She had seen the imp, the Queen's lecherous brother. And her own brother, Bran had cost himself the use of his legs climbing the walls of Winterfell. Sansa knew what a cripple looked like, and they did not look as graceful as this blue eyed knight.

Wiping great beady tears from his eyes, the king once again settled down.

"Now then this is a tourney and we have our champion, now we need our Queen of love and beauty." A proud looking servant in the king's livery stalked towards the champion. A red and official looking pillow resting in his arms.

On the pillow sat a delicate crown of pale pink roses intertwined with golden sunflowers. Two lengths of white silk ribbon fluttered in the breeze behind it. Almost every woman in the stands became enamored of the flowers.

Arya sat up straight, looking expectantly at the wreath. Sansa herself was eying up the knight and the flowers. As he rode closer and closer to the sisters, Sansa became more and more bitter at the love the people showed Arya. All of it should have been hers for the seven's sake. And here this knight was riding up to give Arya one more thing she was undeserving of.

But the knight stopped before Sansa.

"I choose the lady Sansa as my Queen of Love and beauty!" The crowed once again cheered enthusiastically, and for Sansa.


	3. Chapter Two

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Two:

Bells tolled from the great Sept of Baelor, mournful and slow. They wailed for the loss of the Lioness Queen. Despite the universal hatred she received from the people.

It had been a week since the great tourney, and Sansa had little to entertain herself with since. The flowers from her crown had wilted slightly, yet still she wore it upon her head.

Her sister, Arya sat by her son's cradle reading a musty leather bound book.

"I do wish they would stop with those insufferable bells." Sansa complained to her sister.

Arya gave out a small laugh "Are you not in mourning for the beloved Cersei?"

"Of course not."

Arya hummed a little. "I can't think anyone other than Ser Jamie is actually sad in all honesty."

It was true, the court payed begrudging respect earlier that day during the cremation. But the only real mourner in the Sept had been the old queen's twin.

"Gendry and I have the most wicked little bet going." Arya continued, when Sansa did not respond her sister continued. "We both think he will marry again sooner than appropriate."

"Oh? how long do you think this period of mourning will last?" Sansa questioned her sister dully, not caring for the conversation.

"I give it a year before he chooses some poor simpering girl from the Crownlands"

"And the prince?" Sansa was now admittedly intrigued.

"He believes his father will already be choosing a suitable girl to wed." She paused to check on Prince Steffon, who had coughed slightly. "But not even I think the king is that lecherous."

Sansa could not at all honestly agree. Any man who would offer his dying wife as a pity tumble to a crippled tilt Champion was not a fit King.

She momentarily pitied Cersei, who never got the pleasure of seeing her brutish husband die.


	4. Chapter Three

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Three

Eddard hated to be the bearer of bad news, Catelyn even went so far as to say it aged him. This would be the second time he had to summon Sansa to tell her news such as this.

The lord of Winterfell looked at the framed miniatures he kept of his two daughters and wife. Catelyn's hard stare looked at him angrily, she'd be furious at what he was going to allow. The girls however looked younger and more innocent to the world than they did now.

His solar door opened quietly, Eddard looked up to see Sansa enter. She looked much less like the girl in the picture, her hair had darkened and her eyes were now filled with sadness. She also had stopped wearing her bright blue dresses.

She wore deep purple silk, worthy of a Queen's lady in mourning. She wore a strange blend of the Southern and Northern styles. Which had become popular since Arya's wedding.

"Father?" She asked with curiosity. "You sent for me?"

"Of course Sansa, sit child" Sansa took up one of the comfortable plush chairs he kept in his office. "I have news on your betrothal" Eddard ensured he sounded grim.

"hmm?" Sansa hummed. "Who's the latest lording to want the prince's cast off then?"

"Sansa." He tried to sound stern, but noticed Sansa now seemed deep in thought.

"Is it Ser Willas?" she asked boredly, Eddard sighed at the amount of apathy his daughter was showing.

"No, as I understand it he is to wed one of his Hightower Cousins"

"Who then" Sansa asked clearly losing interest in the conversation.

"The King" Sansa paled.

"No no no! I can't marry him, he's old and ugly and a lecherous buffoon!"

"Enough!" His daughter was silent in her seat. "If you think I want this for you Sansa you are sorely mistaken."

Sansa opened her mouth to speak again but thought better of it.

"I simply cannot refuse the King!" Eddard exclaimed becoming frustrated with Sansa's insolence. "He is like a spoilt child! What ever he wants Sansa, he gets."

"Its not like he can do anything" Sansa huffed.

"He can execute me as a traitor" Eddard paused. "He can start a war with our family, have your brothers and mother killed, have Winterfell burnt to the ground. He can put a knife in the heart of your sister, and a pillow placed over her son's head"

"He wouldn't! not his own grandson, not Arya!" She wailed.

"Oh yes he could, and he would. Because even when he has done all that Sansa, he'll still take you. Not as a wife but as a whore, and when he tires of you he'll put you and any bastards in the ground with the rest of us."

He watched Sansa from across his desk. he hadn't realized he had stood, nor the shakes that were over taking his body. She opened her mouth weakly, her green eyes wide with horror. Eddard didn't like to scare her like this, but is was a necessity.

"I-I will do as you ask" If he was honest, Ned had hoped she would still refuse he'd rather of dealt with this with honor.

"I am glad" He smiled, wistfully reflecting on the lack of honor in the city.

A/N: I'd like to thank Marina Ka-Fai for her reviews, while they're not showing up on site I greatly appreciate them. I'd also like to note how intense this chapter was to write for me, and apoligise for anyone finding the content uncomfortable.

Thanks, Phillipe


	5. Chapter Four

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter four:

Sansa Gazed at the cloth of gold satin dress lain upon her bed. Her Gown had been sewn in far greater detail Arya's. Her eyes followed the mass of Stags, each one depicted a moment in the history of Robert's reign.

Their was a proud Stag, stealing a dragon's crown. The next wore his own crown, while all the other animals of his kingdom seemed to worship him. Another was accompanied by three other stags and a doe, each smaller than the next.

Right at the bottom of the gown. on a section of the dress no one would spot, Sansa noticed something that made her blanche with disgust.

The Stag king large and domineering, was mounting a fearful looking dire-wolf. The maneuver it performed was not unlike the act a male dog taking a bitch.

The door to her chambers opened with little ceremony. Her three ladies maids and a Septa had come to dress her. It was quite a solemn dressing, no laugthter just the business like efficiency of the three women lacing Sansa into her gown.

The septa braided her hair, weaving green leaves into the locks as she did. When finished she placed Cersei's old crown on Sansa's head, she wondered if the old Queen would pity her.

The youngest of the three women brought a mirror before Sansa. Who had to admit she looked a vision in all the finery and her crown.

Once Sansa was loaded into the royal carriage with Arya and their Father, who she would still not talk to. The Septa and the three maids left. They arrived at Baelor's Sept quickly, much to Sansa's disappointment.

Sansa looked towards the crowd massed outside the Sept. Hoping to see a brave knight ride up and take her away.

Holding back the tears she felt in her eyes. Sansa allowed herself to be led into the Sept like a lamb for the slaughter by her father.

Later, there was a great feast in the throne room. Dishes were piled high with glazed meats and ripe fruit. It all looked exceedingly Delicious, yet Sansa wanted none of it.

She watched as Arya and her husband danced together gracefully across the room. They looked as lovingly at one another as they had done over a year ago at their own wedding feast.

Sansa a tall man in gold embroidered green velvet approached her. The man walked with a cane carved like roses and thorns. Sansa looked at his face and recognized him as Willas Tyrell.

"May I have this dance Queen Sansa?" The title sounded wrong connected to her name, but Sansa was not about to turn down a dance. Even if he was a cripple.

"Certainly, Ser Willas" Composing herself, Sansa stood from her feast-Throne gracefully. Resting her hand on Willas' shoulder, she was suddenly very aware he still had his cane.

Their movements were plodding and graceless. Sansa had never realized how awkward dancing with one hand could be. She let out a sigh of relief when the dance ended.

Willas noticed her sigh, but chose to ignore it with cool politeness. He was used the inconsiderateness of others by now.

"Thank you for the dance ser."

"The pleasure was all mine, your majesty." He bowed, mockingly and a slight smile forming at the sides of his mouth.

Mildly offended, Sansa returned to her seat. She had begun to pick at a honeyed peach when the song dreaded by all brides on their wedding night.

"A bedding!" Called the men of the court. "A bedding!" they began to chant ominously. A group of them lifted Sansa into the air and carried her away from the high table, and towards a nightmare.

A/N: Don't worry, Robert won't be around for much longer.


	6. Chapter Five

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Five:

The babe wiggled in Sansa's arms, he was a fat child. The few tufts of hair on his head were a shocking amber in colour. His locks curled slightly like her brother Robb's hair had in his youth.

He still had his little eyes tightly shut, but she imagined he had wonderful eyes that looked just like hers. Sansa was very happy with the child, most noticeably because he looked like the perfect copy of all the Tully men.

Sansa had decided her son must have a name of her house, like Rickard or Bran. Poor Bran Sansa thoughts turned to her middle brother. Now dead and buried in Winterfell's crypt along with his namesake Brandon and Lyanna.

"He will be called Brandon." Declared Sansa to the room. Her handmaidens all nodded their approval.

"A grand name for a prince your majesty" Septa Airis agreed in her strange accent, as she approached the bed with swaddling clothes. Their was a timid yet strangely business like knock at the chamber door. "Who is it?" Demanded the Septa.

"Ser Lancel good ladies, I bring urgent news."

"Enter." Sansa commanded. Finding his appearance outside her door entirely strange, as far as she knew he was out hunting with the rest of the men. Sansa had hoped they would not be back for a week at the least.

"My Queen." The youthful knight knelt before her in his hunting gear, emblazoned with Lannister lions.

"What is it ser" She found herself becoming somewhat bored with the days events.

"I regret to inform that your husband the king sustained great wounds while on the hunt."

"I'm sure maester Pycelle will have the king healthy again in no time." Sighed Sansa, she might of actually given some interest to the conversation if the king was dead.

"If only that were the case, my Queen." Sansa shot up in bed fighting to look shocked when she could feel the pull of a smile on her lips. "The King is dead." He paused "Long live the king."

"The king is dead." Repeated her ladies and Septa Airis. "Long live the King."

Sansa supposed this meant Gendry was king now, a strong bull had taken the place of the stag on the throne of the Seven Kingdoms. This meant Arya would be Queen now, and Sansa a Dowager.

"There is one more thing, my lady dowager." The new title seemed dull in comparison to a Queen.

"What is it?" She asked irksomely, Sansa was becoming quite tired of this barrage of news.

"Before he died King Robert chose a name for the child in the case of it being a son."

"It is irreverent, my son already has a name." She looked down at the still sleeping infant. "He is called Brandon."

"An excellent name to be sure. Yet King Gendry has already announced the birth of his brother as Cedric Baratheon Prince Postumas."

Sansa was filled with rage. "Tell him to announce my son again, as Brandon!"

"I wish that I could Lady Dowager, but no one tells a King what to do." His words echoed those of her fathers. He too was too much of a coward to say no to house Baratheon.


	7. Chapter Six

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Six,

Sansa walked with a spring in her step as she climbed the stairs that led to the Small Council Chambers. She felt like a little bird, free from its cage after a long confinement.

As she reached the door, Sansa could hear a man and a woman whispering within. As Sansa knocked they quieted immediately.

"Come in." Called King Gendry, he sounded in high spirits not unusual for a who recently ascended the throne.

Sansa swung the door open delicately, unsure what to expect of the meeting.

"My dear sister in law, or is it step mother?" Asked the king mockingly.

"Gendry!" Arya scolded.

Once long ago, Sansa considered Gendry a friend. Someone she could have even loved him if the circumstances allowed. She wasn't sure when he had begun to despise her so greatly. But Sansa had a good idea why.

"You summoned me your grace"

"I have come to a decision." Began the King, Sansa was intrigued she was unaware of a decision to make. "To thank you for all you have done for house Baratheon Arya and I have chosen you a suitable match."

Sansa looked questioningly at Arya who seemed more interested in caressing her ever growing belly.

"I don't want a match! Suitable or otherwise!" Sansa could feel her heart beating faster with fear.

"Sansa, you are still young there's no reason for you to remain a widow." _I'm young_ Sansa thought to herself indignantly, her sister had always been a liar and a hypocrite.

"The matter has already been decided." The king spoke in a matter of fact way.

"Who is it?" Sansa felt weak and defeated, she forgot that no one refused a Baratheon.

"My dear cousin Lannister." He smiled charmingly. "I believe you met Lancel on his last visit in Kings Landing?"

How could Sansa forget, on her last meeting with the heir to Casterly Rock. He had given her his well meaning condolences. It had been at Robert's vigil in the Great Sept. She played her part well as a grieving widow. Only smiling with utter glee when she was sure no one could see.

"Yes." Sansa replied. "I remember when he fell flat on his ass at Prince Steffon's tourney."

"Sansa!" Arya screeched. "You are being rude!"

A smile flitted on Sansa's lips, that had been her intention. King Gendry gave a hard stare back at his sister in law.

"Well." Sansa huffed. "I see there is no getting out of this."

"I'm glad you _can_ see reason" Gendry drawled. "There is another matter." _What now?_ Sansa thought. "It concerns sweet little Cedric."

"What about him?" Sansa asked.

"Sansa" It was Arya who now spoke. "I think it would be best if he were fostered outside your care."

"Where?" Sansa asked fearing the worst, _Dragonstone._ Sansa had seen that little Shireen girl, she was sweet but so repulsive. What if such an illness befell her son?

"I wish him to be sent to our Father and brother in the north." Somehow that was worse, Sansa wouldn't trust her father with anything especially her firstborn.

"Are you sure that is wise sister." Sansa asked her sister this pointedly, remembering the missive they had received when Bran died. Detailing their father's foolish plan to teach him to ride by strapping him to his horse.

The yearling Bran had ridden became spooked and had thrown him off. They called him The winged wolf, he had flown high into the air and snapped his neck a second time on impact.

Their mother furious with rage had left during one snowy night with Rickon. Neither had been seen or heard from since.

"Father misses having children at Winterfell. Besides little Cedric's fostering is all part of Myrcella and Robb's betrothal agreement."

Sansa felt tears well in her eyes. "Please, call off my wedding to ser Lancel and let me go with him instead." Her plea's fell on deaf ears.

"If it would comfort you, sister you may send a trusted servant with the prince but that is all."

"Send Septa Airis then, She cares for him like a grandson."

"A religious influence is a great choice." The king's words were drowned out as Sansa closed her eyes and let tears fall freely down her cheeks. In that moment she wanted to reach out and snatch the child growing in Arya, let her feel the pain she now did.

When she opened her eyes again the King and _Queen_ looked a little perplexed at her.

"Sansa, you may go." Arya sighed as if it was the second time she was dismissing her sister.

Sansa didn't need to be told twice, as she left she got the distinct feeling she was leaving one cage for another.

A/N: This was a really big chapter for me to write, honestly made me a little sad. I'd like to thank everyone for all of the reviews I've been getting, they mean a lot to me. Thanks, Phillipe


	8. Chapter Seven

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Seven

the time came for Sansa to depart King's Landing, she had begun to hope it would be forever.

The previous week had seen off her son. Little Cedric was now aged four moons, changing much in that small time. Sansa was disappointed when his eyes faded from a bright blue to a muddy brown. His hair still held itself in little ringlets, but had deepened to Sansa's own Auburn colour.

As she dressed for her own journey, Sansa wondered what her son would look like next time she saw him. Would he be a boy covered in mud, playing at knights. Would he be a sullen teen, wanting to carve out his own mark on the seven kingdoms. Or would he be a man grown, with a wife and children. She considered the fact she may never see Cedric again.

she remembered watching as he was loaded onto a royal carriage by Septa Airis. Princess Myrcella began to cry just as the horses began their trot. Which in turn caused Cedric to start wailing. Sansa also remembered the comment Prince Joffrey had made _Princes shouldn't cry._ He had growled as the carriage reached the courtyard gates. _He's a baby, of course he's crying_ Sansa had wanted to respond, but thought better of it.

She had stood there watching, long after the others had left. She imagined the carriage making it's way out of the city, Cedric still bawling. She stood there until dusk, thinking of the inn her son would be staying in that night, would he still be crying.

She finished tying the knots on her riding boots, a carriage could not be spared for Sansa. It had been decided she would make the journey on horseback. Along with a trusted Knight for protection.

Sansa moved towards the exit of the Red Keep. Reaching the same courtyard she had been in a week ago. Her thoughts again turned to Cedric, wondering where the little lad was now.

Waiting for her by the Keep's gate was Ser Willas. wearing dark brown leather riding gear embroidered with bronze roses. In his left hand he held the reigns of the two horses, the right held the same ornate cane he had used at her wedding.

"Lady Sansa."

"Ser Willas." Sansa spat coolly, she had hoped for a more capable knight than a cripple. Ser Willas seemed to sense her dislike of his being here, but chose not to show it.

"Would my lady like any assistance in mounting her horse?"

"I can manage." Almost effortlessly, Sansa pulled herself up onto an elderly white palfrey. Sansa looked down at Ser Willas. "Are you to ride also Ser? or shall you hobble behind with your stick." While he was very much offended by the Dowager Queen's cruel words, he smiled politely back at Sansa.

"Of course not my lady" He turned his back on Sansa, which was almost always considered an insult when it came to royalty.

"It is customary, to never turn your back on royalty _ser"_ Willas smiled to himself.

"I know" Sansa huffed her disapproval as Ser Willas holstered his cane in his saddle. Then with great difficulty, he pulled himself onto the back of his sandy war horse. "Shall we?" He asked indicating the Keep gate.

"Lead on."

Two days into their ride towards Casterly Rock, Sansa had to admit Willas was an excellent rider. She remembered back to the tourney when he had shown both strength and speed. But she hadn't realized the cripple warrior could also be graceful.

"Apple?" Ser Willas asked while Sansa found herself lost in a daydream.

"What?"

"I said would you like an apple?"

"Of course" She took the fruit from his outstretched hand and began to bite. As she did, the Knight reached out and plucked another from a tree.

"I must admit" He began to muse as he rubbed the apple clean. "I have never been a great lover of apples myself."

"Nor I knight." Sansa responded.

"Back home we have great orchids filled with apple trees." He began as the two horses took them along the Forrest road. "I used to run barefoot through the trees with my cousins Margaery and Loras." he sighed. "It's nice to remember a time a time when I could run."

Sansa suddenly felt a great pity for the knight, and regret for mocking him earlier. Perhaps she would think less cruel things of him from now on.

"I personally much prefer citrus." Sansa responded.

"Sorry?" Asked Ser Willas clearly bemused.

"Instead of apples peaches or pears, I much prefer _citrus._ " They continued to ride down the long road. continuing to converse jovially as they did.

Their journey lasted for three more days. Made ever more turbulent by the changeable weather. Sansa had never been to the Westerlands before, and was surprised by its beauty. Great fields of golden wheat stretched for miles waving in the breeze like cloth on a cloths line.

Jagged stone hills stretched for miles around the glorious countryside. Casting great looming shadows whenever the golden sun arched over them.

When they reached Casterly Rock, Sansa's breath left her. The castle stood high on the peak of a jutting cliff, watching over the enormous city of Lannisport below. The Castle was ornately constructed from thick sand coloured stone walls. The Lannisters were clearly unafraid to display their vast wealth as the keep was covered in golden ornamentation.

As Sansa and Willas rode up to the giant red gate with two roaring lions carved onto it. Sansa was suddenly was filled with dread. Passing through the portcullis a realization dawned on her.

She was really going to miss Ser Willas

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who is supporting this story, and a certain someone who is not, " _Arya is a birch"_ I had no clue my portrayal of her character was so wooden. And to address your concerns dear reviewer, no the story will not just be one depressing update after another it gets happier from here on out. (in all fairness to Arya and Gendry, Sansa has been a bit of a C-U next Tuesday to them in the past.) Again having this annoying af trouble with the site showing my reviews, Until next time, Phillipe.


	9. Chapter Eight

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Eight:

Sansa had been given a room looking out over the Sunset Sea. Great white topped waves crashed against the castle foundations. She noted the sound was not unlike a lion's roar.

She had brought little with her on the journey west so Sansa found herself borrowing a nightgown from Lancel's mother, lady Dorna. It was lightweight, and made of chiffon heavily embroidered with both the Lannister Lion and the Swyft Hen. It drowned Sansa, through it's sheer size.

Even her dress for tomorrow was borrowed, albeit from a dead woman. The gown had belonged to Cersei in her girlhood. It was entirely strange for Sansa to think of Cersei wearing anything so different from her grand robes of state.

The under gown was sleeveless. Made from a pale reddish-pink and stitched childishly with red and gold flowers. Sansa was almost certain Cersei had done so herself. The overdress was like a flaw-length coat. Red in colour and stitched with the same pale pink and gold from the under gown. The sleeves left her shoulders bare, something Cersei had done often with her wardrobe as Sansa recalled. It fastened with a bronze delicate plate work belt, and was finished with a matching pendent.

Sansa moved toward the large bed in the room, her thoughts left that of the dress. Instead they turned to Cedric. Myrcella had been kind enough to write Sansa about their progress north, it had arrived at Casterly Rock before her. She wrote that Septa Airis had eventually quieted the lad after three days of travel. Myrcella also wrote that he enjoyed meeting the smallfolk, who were very kind to him.

By now, her son would already be halfway to Winterfell. Sansa prayed to the seven each night that the babe would not catch a chill and die in her inhospitable homeland.

Once settled into the her bed for the night Sansa fell into a deep sleep quickly. she dreamed of two direwolf sisters, who clawed and fought one another to no end.

Sansa was woken with a start the next morning by no less than six ladies maids. While two of them bathed her in honeyed rose water, the other four attended to her clothes and jewels.

Once dressed, it became plain that the dress was intended for a much younger woman than Sansa's twenty years. A Lannister girl braided her hair into circle atop here head, leaving two loose strands either side.

"It is wonderful." Sansa complimented the girl of ten and three as she admired her work in a mirror.

"Thank you." Stammered the girl with flaxen hair as her freckled cheeks blushed.

"What's your name sweet thing?"

"Joy-" The girl was cutoff by an large older woman.

"That's enough of that!" The woman took Joy by the arm, leading her to the side of the room. The other maids distracted Sansa by adding finishing touches to her attire.

"Yes lady Genna." Muttered Joy, Sansa turned to look as the child left the room. She looked at the older woman, hoping for some explanation. All she got was a false smile.

Sansa, and the five remaining women walked down to the Lannister family Sept. It was unlike any Sept she had ever seen. seven walls uneven in length rose up towards the uncovered sky. Each wall had a different lion carved into it inlaid with glittering stones and depicting each of the seven gods. The ground of the Sept, was not stone but grass, dotted with patches of sweet smelling lavender.

It seemed all the Lannisters in the seven kingdoms were in attendance. Sansa looked over a great sea of green eyed lions, watching expectantly. Sansa's blue eyes met another pair of blue.

Willas still wore his riding gear. He looked as though he had slept in the stables if his unkempt brown hair was any sign. His mouth gave a smile of encouragement, but his eyes looked sad.

The elderly lord Tywin was in attendance, he barely left his quarters since Cersei died. Both sons had been great disappointments to Tywin. The Imp, had run off with a whore named Shae. And Ser Jaime had been sent into exile by the king. Rumor had it they both served the Targaryen King and his sister Queen in Meereen now.

The women who had accompanied Sansa into the Sept left her side and joined the rest of the Lannisters. Sansa looked to where Lancel stood beside the Septon. Sansa released the breath she had been holding in from the moment she had entered the room.

The wedding ceremony took an hour, the Septon, Sansa and Lancel exchanged words and vows. It soon came time for the cloak. Lancel draped the red silk cloak emblazoned with Lannister Lions over Sansa's shoulders.

"I take you under my clork." He blushed red while the rest of his house laughed at his mistake.

"Cloak." Whispered the Sansa.

"What did I say?" he asked sounding unsure.

"Clork."

He quickly corrected himself and the ceremony continued as normal. Sansa and Lancel turned to those assembled in the septa as the Septon declared them legally wed. Sansa's eyes caught Willas', he applauded along with the others, yet still he had a bittersweet smile upon his lips.

Afterwards there was a feast, Sansa was seated next to Lancel at the head of the high table. Much like her first wedding there were too many dishes to count. Her head hurt to look back on her first wedding night. She prayed to the seven that this union would be a happy one.

Sansa looked at her new husband. Lancel eagerly watched a pretty black haired maid servant approach with a large golden platter. She wasn't surprised, all men had tastes other than their wives. _Another wasted prayer to the seven_ Sansa thought bitterly. The girl placed the gold platter before them.

"I had these made specially for you Sansa." He had removed the cover from the platter, revealing a mass of lemon cakes.

"Lemon cakes?"

"I heard-They are your favorite right?" Sansa was quite taken aback, how could he possibly know what her most beloved cake was.

"Yes they are Lancel, thank you." She took the largest cake in her hand and ate at it delicately.

They talked well into the night, bards began to play their upbeat songs and sing of long past tales. Yet still they talked. Sansa didn't even notice when Ser Willas left the room, It was his intention after all. Besides he had his own wedding to get to even if the woman he loved was eating lemon cakes in the next room.

It came time for the bedding ceremony. instead of bawdy men carting her off and stripping her of her clothes this was to be a dignified affair. Lancel led Sansa by the arm out of the great hall and to his chambers.

When they had finished their coupling, Sansa lay awake for hours. She pondered her new marriage, would she be happy or sad, have many sons or only daughters. Would she ever love the man asleep beside her? When all she could think of was Willas Tyrell and his sad blue eyes.

A/N: I really feel I've reached the 'end of part one' section of this fic, there is more come obviously. I'd like to thank everyone for their continued support, it means so much. Thank you all, Phillipe.


	10. Chapter Nine

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Nine:

the first three peaceful years of Gendry's reign had not lasted long. Lord Walder Fray ever treacherous had refused to bend the knee and risen in rebellion. The king had called his banners to the Riverlands. He'd taken all of the Lannister men old or healthy enough to fight.

Lancel was far away commanding the Lannister forces while Sansa remained at Casterly Rock. She cared for Lord Tywin as he lay on his death bed.

"Water, please water." The dying man wheezed.

"Here" Sansa helped Tywin drink from his goblet. It was a strange thing to see the great warrior reduced to a dying old man.

"Thank you Sansa." He breathed heavily. "Is there any word from my sons." He had asked each day that week. Lord Tywin knew he was not long for the world, he wanted peace with Jamie and Tyrion.

"No I'm sorry there is not." She had sent a raven, twice a day each day he asked, still it was a slim chance either man would reply.

"I shouldn't of been so hard on them, especially not Tyrion. Ah." He sighed. "The regrets of a dying man." he smiled weekly. "What of your son Sansa? do you get news of him?"

"He writes me himself." She rubbed her swelling belly, where a new child grew.

"Does he now, how old is he now?"

"Still only three my lord, He's no great writer though." She smiled to herself. "He asks to come to Caterlilly each time he writes."

"Caterlilly? where in seven hells is that?"

"Here Tywin." He laughed a little.

"It reminds me of Tyrion at that age, always reading he was an intelligent boy far more so than what I gave him credit for. Both of my sons so much regret, I was a good soldier, a good strategist and a good politician. I was a terrible father and my sons despise me."

"I'm sure your sons don't despise you."

"Then you didn't know my sons." He deadpanned with complete certainty.

"Cersei was good, you must be proud of her." He didn't respond, he even seemed to close off a bit.

"My daughter was-" He paused. "I must confess something to you." Tywin looked far more serious than he normally did.

"What?" Sansa had never seen Lord Tywin act this way.

"What I have to tell you is what littlefinger and Jon Arryn died for." Sansa was shocked and confused.

"They died years ago, Lord Arryn of a pox and Petyr Baelish was murdered by a crazed whore!" She supposed the old man's mind had started to go.

"They were killed." He he said it with utter certainty. "They were killed on the orders of Cersei."

"That can't be true I served Cersei as her handmaiden for years I knew her she wouldn't do such a thing she was good!"

"I knew her whole life, I was her father if there was one thing she would kill for it was her children."

"But why what threat could they have been?"

"They're bastards." Sansa's mouth was agape.

"Whose?" She whispered.

"Ja- no, no I must keep that secret." He swallowed. "Only know she left Robert no true born heirs."

"But Gendry is the splitting Image of Robert how could he be another man's?"

"Well he's not another man's." He sighed. "That was another more complicated deception, one Cersei knew nothing of." Sansa wondered how a woman could possibly be fooled about who her son is. "The first born boy, the real Gendry died of a fever two months after his birth."

"How-"

"I'm getting to that." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I swapped the dead boy for one of Robert's bastards. The mother was easy enough to convince, the promise of your son on the throne can be a powerful thing to the likes of a serving wench."

"Surely Cersei or Robert would have noticed such a deception!"

"They were at Dragonstone, paying a royal visit." Tears were in his eyes. "I buried that boy myself, just outside Old Gate. He was so little, he was my grandson."

"But why?"

"Because it was long ago they loved that little boy, and through him each other." Tywin exhaled. "I thought there was a chance for Cersei to be happy with someone other than-" he stopped himself again. "Each time I visited Kings Landing I made sure I had time to go to the place where I buried him, my grandson."

"That poor child." She breathed.

By the next morning Tywin had died, he went peacefully as though all his burdens were lifted. Sansa sent a raven to his sons in Meereen, she had little hope they would reply.

Months passed, and the war in the Riverlands still went on. Unlike Tywin the old Lord Frey refused to die. It seemed there was no end his hoard of sons. Sansa grew bigger still, and the Maester suspected twins.

Until one day word came from the Twins, that all the Freys were dead. From either side of the river they had been besieged by Stark forces to the north, Baratheon and Lannister to the south. Half of them starved, with such a large family food ran out fast. When lord Frey surrendered his sons and daughters swarmed out of the castle like rats. The king put them all to the sword, they were calling it the battle of the Red River.

Sansa waited for two weeks for the Lannister forces to return home again. She had gotten no news as to who had survived the battle. Word was that the Lannisters had sustained little losses, but the Tyrells had lost much. They had marched a force of twenty thousand men north, but would return south with less than half that number. Sansa preyed that Willas would be safe.

Sansa had fallen asleep by the fire in their bedchamber when Lancel returned. He went to stand beside Sansa, and woke her gently. When her eyes opened they went wide in surprise.

"Your home!" She wrapped her arms around him

"Yes my love." He looked her over. "You've grown." She smiled at him. "I hope uncle Tywin hasn't been a bore these past months." Sansa's face dropped to the floor. "He's dead."

"Yes." Sansa whispered. "We sent ravens, but got no response."

"King Gendry had all the ravens shot out of the sky, your messages must have gone astray." At the mention of the King, Sansa became fearful.

"I-I must tell you something."

"What is it? whats wrong? Is it Cedric? is the baby?" Lancel asked so many questions in quick succession Sansa could barely understand him.

"No, they're both fine."

"Then what?" Sansa stood to be closer to the fire.

"Tywin told me things before he died." She looked into the dancing flames. "Terrible things."

Lancel didn't respond, he just watched her and the flames cast shadows in her blue eyes.

"He told me the truth about the King. Prince Gendry has been dead for twenty four years, switched with one of Roberts many bastards."

"How could Robert do such a thing, deceive his own wife." Sansa chose not to point out Robert had many bastards, which was hardly honest.

"No it was Tywin who made the switch." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Then I must gather my men and ride for the Vale and declare for Joffrey he is our true king!" It was Sansa's turn to shake her head.

"Another bastard."

"Then Tommen must be-" She shook her head again. "Myrcella-" His mouth dropped open. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"Cedric dear sweet little Cedric!" Sansa looked at him aghast.

"No! He's just a boy and that bloody iron throne is poison!"

"Its his by right of blood!" He shouted. "He's your son how can you deny it to him?"

"People have found this secret out before Lancel!" She breathed heavy and tears streamed down her face. "And their all dead from either poison, knives or old age, if this came out all of Westeros would bleed for it."

"How can you let your sister be wed to a bastard." Sansa rather thought it served her right.

"She's happy." She answered. "Besides I could hardly stop her."

"What will you do?" Sansa had given it little thought.

"I'll tell my son when he's old enough, and he can decide if he wants to rebel against his brothers."

"When he does he'll have my support I swear it by the seven."

Sansa didn't doubt his sincerity, just his intent. It was hard not to make a play for the crown for men and women alike. Many had died trying. Who would die for Cedric's right to rule. Would it be her husband, Ser Willas or even her son.

She remembered words Cersei had given her long ago, When you play the Game of Thrones, you win.

Or you die.

A/N: Update on my review issue what ever was happening is not happening anymore, which is great. Speaking of reviews nineteen Jesus mother Mary and Santa Claus! you guys really like my stuff (some of you anyway). Thanks, Phillipe.


	11. Chapter Ten

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Ten,

Sansa looked out over the churning sea below. Winter had finally come, and for the Westerlands it meant near on unending storms. The winter had not been bad to Westeros so far, and the Maesters of the Citadel predicted it would be mercifully short. Sansa prayed they were right each day. It was worrisome enough raising to children in the cold, she didn't want it for her next child.

Her two daughters bounced on their bed, roaring at one another. The elder twin was Alessa, her hair was a perfect golden colour and slightly curled. She was more of a lady by far than Breanna, who's hair was short and straight with a dirty blond hue. Both girls had green Lannister eyes, there was little of Sansa's Tully look in either of them.

"Girls!" Sansa scolded. "Don't bounce on the bed!" She ran at the girls and tackled them to the bed, and tickled them as they roared with girlish laugthter.

"Mama!" They squealed. "Mama no!"

"Will you stop bouncing?"

"Yes." Alessa answered quickly.

"NO!" Screeched Breanna as she wiggled free and continued to bounce. "NO! No! No! No!" She yelled as much as she could and at the top of her little lungs. Unseen, a man entered the room and grabbed the girl from behind.

"What do we have here?" Lancel asked, holding the squirming child high in the air. "Has a common stable hand broken in and caused a ruckus?"

"A what?" Asked the girl.

"A ruckus! You'll have to be put in the dungeons will all the other trouble makers"

"no!"

"No? then what would you do instead?"

"Sleep." Breanna told her father assertively.

"A wise decision my child." As he tucked the girl into her bed Sansa got up and stood beside him.

Once Sansa and Lancel had convinced their girls to actually sleep. Under threat of the stern Septa Unella watching over them as they slept. They retired to their own rooms an talked for a bit in the study.

"We've received a summons from King's Landing." He told her as he held out a letter with the royal seal upon it.

"Why?" Sansa asked as she opened the papers.

"Prince Tommen is to marry it seems." What she read in letter confirmed this.

"I've never heard of a lady Iona." She mused as she read the name of the bride. "Nor does it say what house she's from."

"She's not a noble."

"A merchant's daughter?" She asked.

"No." Sansa looked at her husband questioningly.

"A commoner?"

"Born in Flea bottom I believe."

"Why would the king allow such a thing?" Sansa pondered

"He is of common stock himself."

"Lancel." Sansa began through gritted teeth. "We agreed not to talk of this."

Instead of arguing with his wife Lancel remained silent.

"We're expected two moons from now." That wasn't the only thing expected in two months time. Sansa thought to herself.

"I Can't travel like this!" She indicated the bulge at her stomach.

"The Queen must travel by ship from Dragonstone." The two elder Princes, Steffon and Robert had sent to the island to be fostered by lady Shireen. The younger prince Ellyott, and the princess Cassana remained in King's Landing in the Red Keep.

"She must be mad." Sansa muttered, the crossing by ship was bad enough in this wintry weather. But with two boys of six and five along for the journey, and another babe in the belly Sansa was near convinced her years as Queen had made Arya lose her wits. "I don't want to go." Sansa added assertively.

"Are you sure?" Lancel looked at his wife slyly.

"What do you know?" Sansa asked, very suspicious of his intent.

"All the great lords and ladies will be in attendance. Especially those with royal spouses like lady Arryn or-"

"Robb?" Sansa asked, exited.

"And he will bring-"

"My son!" She spoke excitedly. "Then I must go! He must meet the girls! He's five I must bring him a gift like a toy soldier or do you think he would prefer a book-"

"Sansa, calm." He said thinking the boy may want his birth right as a gift.

"I haven't seen him since he was a babe." She whispered.

As they retired to bed, Sansa thought of how he may look now. She pictured a tall boy of five with red hair and brown eyes. He had a permanent boyish grin from ear to ear.

She fell asleep smiling thinking of all the time she would spend with her son. As she did, another face she had not seen since her arrival at Casterly Rock. Willas Tyrell had been so kind to her during her widowhood. Yet she hadn't seen him or even sent a letter. For all Sansa knew he could be dead two years, among the dead of the Red River.

That scared her, and she didn't know why.

A/N: This chapter is a bit short and sweet, dare I say fluffy as it is just a filler to bridge the gap in time there now is between some of the chapters. If anyone is confused about ages and time gaps at this stage in the story, please ask I had to work it all out myself to be honest. Once again thank you to those taking an interest in this story, until next time Thanks, Phillipe


	12. Chapter Eleven

To Lose A Crown.

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Eleven,

She could feel the bitter chill of winter here in the godswood. Especially this one, it was so unlike the one in Winterfell. Snow fell around her, each flake the size and shape of a ripe apple.

"Mama." She turned around, her movements fluid like the air.

"Mother?" Alessa and Breanna asked in unison. Their hair was green and unruly, and their eyes were golden wide and hungry like a direwolf's. "Follow us." They giggled and ran towards the trees.

"No!" She called out to them, but they faded into the snow storm. "Come back."

Three shadowy figures stood in her way. The first was tall and fat and had blood pouring from his gut. The Second was slim, and in the last days of his youth. He coughed frequently and seemed week. The last was old and crooked.

"Sadness." The First figure muttered. He fell to the ground into the snow swirling at his feet. Sansa rushed forward to help him, but he melted and became one with the ground.

"Happiness." Coughed the Second. He breathed heavily before also slumping into an icy pile before him, like the other before he melted like ice.

"Death." Spoke the last, his voice distant but familiar. "And l-"

The carriage jolted and Sansa woke with a start. She looked at her two daughters, still sleeping sound like little lion cubs. It would be about three more days before they reached Kings Landing, and the journey was making Sansa ill.

"Stop the carriage!" On her order they slowed and came to a halt. Her head was pounding from her dream, and she felt sick to her stomach. Sansa stepped out of the carriage and stumbled towards a nearby bush. Hooves trotted up to her as she wrenched into the foliage.

"My love?" Sansa sensed Lancel standing behind her. She looked round at him he was clearly finding the journey fatiguing.

"You look tired."

"And you look like death my love, It's freezing out here!" He began to lead her back towards the carriage.

His use of the word death bothered her, was that what the final figure warned her of? her imminent demise. Would she never return from King's Landing, the Red Keep had claimed many noble lives. Be it from disease or poison.

"I'm fine." She responded, trying to push her worries from her mind. He continued to push her towards the carriage despite protests.

"You just threw up and being out here in the cold is not good for the child."

Or maybe this child would kill her, it happened often enough. It would even be a good cover for her assassination, if the King's secret were to get out.

"Get off." Sansa slipped free of his grasp. "I wish to take some air."

"Fine." He sighed. "But we must get moving again soon." Lancel called out to the Lannister soldiers accompanying them to halt, and went to join them.

Sansa walked into the tree line. The frost on the ground had started to thaw, spring was making its presence known at last. She sat upon a tree stump, and inhaled the cool air.

After a while Sansa had to admit she was fearful of returning to Kings Landing. She felt uneasy about seeing Arya again. Would she have become like Cersei she wondered. Perhaps the love between her sister and the king had soured, maybe all she had to love were her children.

She feared what could happen if Gendry were ever to learn the truth. He was a cruel and uncaring man last they spoke. He would kill her. She feared an assassin's blade silting her throat in the dead of night. Before moving on to the neck's of Lancel, Breanna and Alessa.

They were just two silly girls, who would sell out the others secrets just to spite one another. Sansa often compared the two with herself and Arya at that age.

Finally she stood and returned to the carriage, and they got underway once again. When it became dark, her girls woke from their peaceful sleep.

"Give me my doll!" Alessa grasped at the doll to no avail.

"No." Screeched Breanna as she held the toy high in the air out of reach from her twin. "Its mine now!"

"You don't even like dolls!" their continued argument was grating on Sansa's nerves.

"Girls!" They continued their fight as though she had not been heard.

Sansa remembered a particularly wicked thing her mother had done in her youth. Once long ago Bran and Rickon had fought over a direwolf toy. When they came to blows over it, her mother had taken the soft animal and thrown it from the nearest window.

She snatched the doll out of Breanna's waving hand and tossed it out of the carriage. Both girls looked shocked at her actions.

"Mother?" Asked a tearful Alessa. "My dolly."

"Family is more important than a toy." Huffed Sansa. "Go back to sleep, and think about how the two of you have behaved." They both sobbed for a while but soon dozed off.

She remembered her thoughts in the wood earlier that day. They had to learn to work together. Thick as Thieves as the old saying went. The capital would be a dangerous place for two young girls. They had to be united in something even if it was hatred of their own mother.

Sansa looked out the window at the passing countryside illuminated by the moon, the trees swayed in the cold night air. Their movements hypnotizing. She felt guilty about the doll Sansa thought wearily as she began to close her eyes. Finally falling asleep once more.

She found herself again in the other worldly godswood. But found it had changed to spring.

A/N: I said I would update this and I have, some of you may have realized I uploaded another story which I deleted. I did this because quite frankly it was awful and needs work. It was a Star Trek fic I want to branch out a bit in regards to what I write. If I do republish it and any of you would find that interesting please support it and help me improve my writing. Anyway, I will be updating both To Lose A Crown and my as of yet unnamed project simultaneously. So expect updates. As always thanks, Phillipe.


	13. Chapter Twelve

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twelve,

He was like a little version of herself, exactly as she would have imagined a male Sansa. His hair was shoulder length and held itself tight auburn curls. His eyes had turned almost black in colour. His face was round and boyish, like his smile.

"Mother" He greeted her warmly, his recognition surprised her.

"You know me?"

"As anyone would know them self lady mother." For a child of five he was well spoken and well mannered.

Followed by two Lannister soldiers for protection. Sansa took a walk with Cedric through the keep's gardens and out of the Old gate. Sansa quickly she learnt her son was a very talkative boy.

She smiled a little when he described his many adventures climbing the towers of Winterfell. Cedric reminded her immensely of her lost brother Bran. She could not help feeling bitter she was not permitted to name her own son after him. Much like her mother used to do, Sansa chided him for being so reckless.

"May I pick some wildflowers mother?"

"Of course." She looked over t0 their bodyguards. "you, keep my son safe." She'd missed five years of her son's life, yet the hour they had already spent together had started to make up for it. She walked beside the clear water riverbed that ran alongside the dirt path. The surrounding trees swayed softly in the breeze, giving Sansa a great feeling of calm.

Sansa lowered herself to the river, she look of her light blue satin shoes embroidered with silver lion cubs. She sat on a rock, dipping her toes into the cool stream. She saw a strange rock protruding from the grass speckled dirt on the opposite bank.

Curious she stood to try and get a better look at it, the rock was large and oddly smooth. Sansa gathered her skirts to her thigh, and waded the foot high waters. The crossing did not take long soon Sansa was basking in the sun on the other side.

She knelt down beside the stone and just stared at it for a while. It had never occurred to her that Tywin would have placed a marker here. It was well hidden she thought. If she had never stepped down to the bank she would have passed it by, it's presence remaining a secret forever. It was engraved with no more than a crowned stag and lion, very few people knew Tywin's secret, and very few would understand the marker's meaning.

"Mother!" Sansa heard splashing behind her, she whipped her head round, fearful of what Cedric was doing in the water. "I got you something." To her relief, he tackled the waters with little difficulty. Although he was now covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear. He had a bunch of wild blossoms clutched in his hands, each one was a pale pink with a trailing green stem.

Cedric offered the bouquet of wild flowers to Sansa which she took and smelt delicately.

"Do you like them mother."

"Of course, they're beautiful." She smiled at him warmly. "Maybe we should leave them here by this marker."

"Why?" His eyes widened with curiosity.

"Because it will bring you good luck." Sansa had never heard of any myth or legend suggesting anything of the sort would bring good fortune. Yet she felt the gods would see it for the good gesture it was.

Asking no more questions, Cedric took his time placing each flower on a different spot of the marker. When finished, it looked like spring was overgrowing the cold of winter.

Cedric yawned, his mouth going wide. He began to struggle to keep his little eyes open. Wordlessly, Sansa lifted him into the air and carried him back across the river. She saw her two bodyguards searching the treeline frantically. Evidently Cedric had given them the slip. Both looked relived but embarrassed once they saw their mistress carrying the boy.

"Thank the gods!" One of them sighed.

"I'll carry the prince for you my lady." The other held his arms out to receive the boy.

"No." Sansa told him, pushing the tumbling auburn locks off Cedric's face. "I'll carry him myself."

Both guards acknowledged her orders. They walked back the way they came to the Red Keep, Cedric sleeping all the way. Sansa had to admit he was a heavy burden, especially on top of the child she had in her belly. But to her it was worth it. She'd been denied five years of holding her son in her arms.

She was going to enjoy it, while it lasted.

A/N: Short and sweet I know, next chapter will be more fun. Thanks Phillipe.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Thirteen,

Sansa sat beside her chamber fire, darkness had spread over King's Landing bringing the cold night with it. The Septa sung a relaxing tune in the next room. She imagined Breanna and Alessa sleeping soundly at the older woman's wavering voice.

Rather unexpectedly, Sansa found herself back in the same godswood she had visited in her dream. Only this time there was no snow, sunlight poured through the tall canopy above instead. And the Weir wood tree had blood like sap pouring from its eyes.

"Sansa" She turned towards the sound of the voice. "Do not be afraid." The figure before her was short, and made entirely of gleaming gold with large sparkling rubies for eyes.

She opened her mouth to speak, but started to gag instead. She fell to the ground clutching her throat. The golden boy knelt beside her, and stroked her head soothingly.

"Lady Sansa." The golden boy smiled as his eyes twinkled yet it was not him who spoke.

"Lady Sansa." She awoke to find the fire dying and the first hints of morning creeping in through the window. The Septa stood over her with concern on her aged face.

"Yes?" Sansa asked groggily as she rubbed her sleep sodden eyes.

"A messenger came, you are to go to the small council chambers."

"Who summons me?" Sansa felt indignant, it was entirely inappropriate for a lady of her status to be summoned at an hour so offensive to the Seven.

"Your son and brother in the eyes of the gods, The King."

It didn't take long for Sansa to dress herself decently in a dark pink gown made from fine silks and lace. It buttoned up to the base of her neck. She slid into matching silk open toe slippers.

Escorted by one of her husband's soldiers, Sansa made her way through the night chilled keep, her feet tapping daintily on the flagstone floors. Her skirts flowed behind her in the breeze coming in from the ocean.

Sansa quickly found herself at the tower of the hand. These had been the rooms of her father, she had along with Arya spent the latter half of her girlhood within its' thick red stone walls.

Once within the Tower, Sansa had to climb the seemingly endless staircase. Fortunately the small council chambers were not to high up the tower. When she reached the thick wooden door she turned to her guard.

"Wait here."

"Yes Ma'am"

She knocked once on the door, loud enough for anyone to hear, yet not enthusiastic enough to seem pleased at the meeting.

"Enter." Came a Man's voice from within.

She did as she told, closing the door behind her.

"Your Majesty." Sansa bowed before the king.

"Please Sansa, there is no need." She stood, and looked upon the king.

Gendry was unrecognisable, the boy once filled with princely charm seemed to have died. An imposter must now fill the space where he once stood. The man before her had the weight of an entire kingdom bearing down upon him.

"There is no need to be so formal, you are my sister, by marriage." And mother thought Sansa bitterly.

"Why have I been summoned at this hour?"

"To the point I see." The king. "I wish to make amends for past indiscretions" Which one Sansa considered, sending her son away, or forcing her to marry his cousin.

"W-" She began.

"I should have never allowed Cedric to have been sent away from your care." The king had always had a profound knack for stating the obvious. "Your sister and I have never been kind to you."

"I am surprised at your-" Sansa paused, to chose the right word. "Sincerity."

"It shames me that your surprise is rightfully deserved." The boy Gendry had once been truly had died. That or his motives for apology were less pure. Perhaps, the King himself had learnt the truth. That he was no more a king than any man living in flea bottom, and that his brothers and sister were bastards too. Leaving only Cedric as the true born king.

The conversation had lulled as Sansa considered an appropriate response.

"This is most kind of you your majesty, your apology is well received." Sansa could almost certainly use this to her advantage. "My I ask however, If Arya is also apologetic?" The King chuckled lightly.

"I doubt it my wife is stubborn, and holds grudges." Sansa knew Gendry was right about that, ever since they were children she and Arya had loathed one another.

"Then perhaps you would permit me to take my son to Casterly Rock with me once the wedding celebrations are over?" The king seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"Yes, certainly only if your brother agrees."

"Oh? why must I get Robb's approval if I already have yours?"

"As you know my dear sister and lord Stark have not been blessed with living children of their own." As a mother Sansa could imagine how empty she would feel if her children had never lived.

"Cedric is such a sweet child, I suppose I have Myrcella to thank for that." On reflection Sansa could see her sister by law's influence on the young prince, well mannered, softly spoken and kind. It still made her eyes burn with the promise of tears for what she had to say next. "I think he must stay in the north, for the sake of the Stark line."

"I'm so sorry Sansa, I feel as though I am forcing you to give up your son all over again." Sansa wanted to spit at the king and tell him that was exactly what he was doing. The gods had seen fit to send him many sons, so many they they must be disposable to him. She thorght better of yelling at the King, as that may cause a one way ticket to being in exile with his uncles.

"May I go now?" She asked he voice breaking from the strain of tears.

"Certainly" The King sounded pitying, Sansa did not want his pity.

She wanted her son, her firstborn boy.

A/N: Jesus Mary mother of Christ it has been a long long time! A little explanation, a met someone, he seemed nice, we dated he turned out to be a wanker and I've been sobbing like a baby ever since. No more. All men a arseholes, I would know I am one. Anyway that's pretty much why I haven't updated since last year I'm real sorry please forgive me, and enjoy!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Fourteen,

Sansa had been surprised by her first glimpse of the lady Iona, not that she in any real sense was considered a lady. She had been under the impression that any commoner who caught the heart of the young prince must be exceptionally beautiful. Iona, however was not. Nor was she ugly either just entirely plain, and a tad plump for a woman in her youth.

Iona had long, dark hair that had been fashioned into a bird's nest style reminiscent of those Cersei used to wear. The bride's dress was the simple tunic style favored by the common folk, though this gown was made of the finest silk money could buy, it was the purest white in colour and had been stitched with bronze thread. Her cuffs, collar and trim were all encrusted with jagged pieces of amber that glistened in the candle light and matched her eyes.

Rumors swirled around the court that Tommen's bride was surely a witch using spells and poisons to beguile the youngest prince. The truth was Iona the daughter of a baker, her mother made the most delicious lemon cakes in the city, a sample of which Sansa had vowed to sink her teeth into.

Sansa was truly pleased for Prince Tommen, who as a result of his marriage had to give up that title Sansa had been somewhat fond of Tommen during her brief time as Queen, he had been the only one of her stepsons to show her any kindness.

As the bride was led past her by her mother of all people. Sansa noticed Willas Tyrell, he looked much the same, yet he'd aged his hair still curled and a deep brown in colour was now spotted with gray. She looked away quickly and back towards the marriage ceremony taking place before her.

She smiled and cheered along with the rest of the guests as the young couple said their vows.

"Ser Tommen Baratheon and Lady Iona." Announced the High septon, to which those in attendance cheered. Sansa and Lancel began to move from their place in the audience next to the sour looking Joffrey, his even more sour looking wife Lysa and Their bored offspring Cersen and Minsa.

As she left the sept escorted by her husband and trailing behind the happy couple, Sansa got the distinct feeling she was being watched. Before she could turn around to see by who. Lancel had led her out into the blindingly bright streets of Kings Landing.

Ser Willas limped toward the open doors of Baelor's Sept, trying to get another glimpse of Lady Sansa.

* * *

The Wedding feast was loud and as lavish as one would expect for the Baratheons'. Silver plates of roast boars, with glistening red apples sticking out of their mouths. And a white Peahen with all her feathers removed save for her impressive plumage that took two servants to carry. Later when desert came, Sansa would have normally been delighted to spot the very lemon cakes she had craved during the ceremony.

Tonight however Sansa had the worst pain in her stomach. She was about to bid goodnight to Lancel, when a small boy tugged at her skirt. She looked down at the child. He looked startlingly like Cedric, yet he had darker coloring and was a few years older, and thus was still allowed to be at the feast at this late hour.

"Are you the old Queen?" The little boy asked, Looking Sansa over curiously.

"I was once the Queen." The child seemed to mull this over.

"You don't look old, Ellyott said you would be old like grandfather, Ellyott's four he's stupid." Sansa let out a small laugh. Internally kicking herself for not realizing who the child was sooner. Prince Steffon had grown much since Sansa had last been in King's Landing now about eight years old she supposed. "And Robert said you were our aunt too but mother wishes you weren't."

Sansa strongly suspected some truth in that.

"The Queen and I do not always see eye to eye." The prince leaned his head to the side and furrowed his brow.

"What does that mean?"

Sansa was about to respond when a great pain ripped at her belly. The young Prince became intrigued by Sansa's condition then.

"Is it a boy?"

"I don't know yet" Sansa ground out through the pain.

"Mother always has boys." Steffon said proudly. "I'm a boy." He stated proudly. "Robert is too, and Ellyott and little Eddard though he has to wear dresses still so you could think he was a girl."

"I suppose you could mistake an infant boy for a girl babies look pretty much the same." She gripped at her belly now, feeling the pain of a dagger being thrust into her skin.

"I don't want another brother." Huffed the prince. "But I overheard the Maester telling father and mother to expect twins."

"Fascinating Steffon-" She began with the intention of asking him to get help.

"Two more little brothers." The prince shuddered. "Three was bad enough, five is too much of a responsibility for me."

"-" Sansa opened her mouth briefly while Steffon continued to confess his fears about the amount of brothers he has.

"I suppose I shall have to get very good at counting if this continues." He sighed. "What if there's so many brothers mother forgets about me?" He looked up at Sansa expectantly now.

"I doubt very much anyone could forget a single conversation with you my prince." Sansa's voice dripped with sarcasm, being very young the prince didn't notice, instead taking the words as a complement.

"Thank you." He beamed looking very proud of himself. She was about to ask the boy for help again when he started to ramble on about something else entirely. Sansa couldn't quite make out what the prince was talking about, as soon after she collapsed onto the floor.

It was at this point Steffon ran off, yelling for help.

* * *

Once again Sansa found herself in the corrupted Godswood, Far away she could hear a baby crying. She started to run toward the source of the noise but once again found herself in the same Godswood, she must have gotten lost and doubled back. She turned on her heel about to go running toward the source of the noise again, but her way was blocked.

"Summer is coming." Whispered her mother. "You should be afraid."

"Father always warned us of the winters."

"Summer Sansa, Summer." The figure before her was still her mother, yet she took on the voice of others now, Cersei, Gendry, Tywin her father, Arya, Robert, Lancel and others she could not recognize.

Her mother's figure drew a sword on her.

"RUN!" They all screeched at once. Sansa once again ran toward the sounds of the crying infant, which began to take on the cry of a wolf instead. She tripped and found herself again falling into the Godswood. Her mother found her once again, holding her sword menacingly.

"Sansa!"

Her mother plunged the sword into her belly, at which point Sansa cried out in pain once. Instead of blood trickling out of the wound, petals cascaded out of the tear getting caught into the breeze.

A/N: Did I kill Lysa off in an earlier chapter I have this nagging feeling I did but can't quite remember. -Phillipe


	16. Chapter Fourteen Continued

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Fourteen, Continued.

Sunlight poured into Sansa's chambers, The room smelt of sweat and blood. She shifted slightly, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her. Feeling her belly she found it no longer full and without a life inside it.

Sansa screamed and screeched until the wooden door of her rooms burst inwards, to reveal Lancel brandishing his sword, which only led Sansa to scream louder, in memory of the dream she'd had. Her husband quickly put the sword away looking sheepish.

"My love I'm sorry, I thought a vagabond had gotten into the room."

"There's no one here but me you fool." She snapped at him. "What happened."

"You collapsed at the feast, terrified prince Steffon." Sansa didn't care about the little prince only her baby"Took hours to calm him down, Woke up all the other princes too, Four boys all screaming in one room worst thing I've ever experienced and by the gods hope never to experience again." He sighed, Lancel looked tired.

"Wheres my baby?"

"Oh right." He left the room closing the door behind him. Sansa threw her hands in the air in frustration, not knowing what her husband was doing. She sat there in the large bed for an hour before Lancel returned, with a nursemaid holding an infant in tow.

"M'lady." The women bowed her head in respect for Sansa's position. She craned her neck trying to get a better look at the swaddled baby the other woman held.

"Give them too me." Sansa demanded, any normal infant would usually bawl at the loud noise, yet this one did not. The Maid carefully handed Sansa her child. Where she cradled him in her arms.

"You may leave now, thank you." Lancel ushered the Nursemaid out of the door, the sat on the end of the bed.

"I've named him Leon." Sansa smiled.

"An excellent choice." Sansa beamed down at her son. "Hello-"

"Sansa, he can't hear you."

"What?" She looked again at her seemingly perfect son. "Why not?" Lancel sighed once again, Sansa supposed this is why her husband looked so tired.

"The Maester claims he's defective." Sansa bristled at the very use of the word describing her son. "Seems to be a curse with third born children in my family, you remember my cousin Tyrion short and ugly little man, and then there was my youngest brother Willem, always had the mind of a child well into his adult life."

"There's nothing wrong with him."

"Sansa-"

"Don't you Sansa me!" Lancel recoiled a little in fear. "Look at him." Lancel looked at the plain ceiling instead.

"I didn't want this for my son, He'll either be ridiculed as Tyrion was or get lost and beaten to death by common thugs like Willem because he was strange." Lancel raised his voice slightly, and Sansa noticed had the faintest signs of tears in his eyes.

"L-"

"I have a meeting with the King, I can't stay any longer." He got up and opened the door to her chambers again. slamming them behind him.

* * *

Later the nursemaid came back with Sansa's handmaiden Mira Swyft, who helped Sansa to change into a new dress, the dress was green velvet but was simple and unadorned.

"Cheer up M'lady" Said the nursemaid. "You'll produce an heir yet." the older woman smiled warmly at Sansa.

"I've given my lord husband his heir, his ailment does not bar him from his birthright." The nurse paled. "And I would remind you to know you place in the presence of your betters."

"Right you are M'lady." She swallowed as she cradled Leon.

"Give me my son." Leon was handed back to his mother. "You are dismissed from service to my house go get whatever measly sum you were promised and leave." Sansa commanded.

"My apologies my Lady." The woman bowed and left the room leaving.

"Mira you may also go."

"Am I to-"

"Yes you are to remain in my service just leave." Sansa growled out at the young woman.

After she had been left alone with Leon, she placed him gently among the silks of her bed sheets. She studied her son, the tufts of hair growing atop his head looked much like her own, auburn. Leon was only a day old, still blind to the world but she hoped he'd look just like her. Maybe he'd even look like Cedric. Just not be like him, Sansa wondered weather or not he'd even be able to talk, what If Leon was simple like Lancel's brother.

Sansa sat down at the large wooden desk at the back of the room and pulled out a sheet of parchment, and started to scribble her message.

 _To the Archmaesters of the Citadel._

 _I Lady Sansa, of house Stark, Queen dowager of the Seven Kingdoms and Lady of Casterly Rock request the assistance of your guild concerning my infant son Leon. The child has been born without the ability to hear like any normal babe. I fear for his future and his ability to understand this cruel world we live in. My hope is that one within your order will be able to teach him despite his disability, or cure him of his inability to hear._

 _I will pay handsomely any man who can help my son._

 _-_ _Lady Sansa, of house Stark, Queen dowager of the Seven Kingdoms and Lady of Casterly Rock._

Sansa rolled up the parchment and sealing it with wax. She stood once again and opened the door to her chambers.

"Mira!" The girl came over hurriedly when summoned.

"Yes Lady Sansa." She curtseyed before her mistress.

"Take this and ensure it is sent to the Citadel."

"Yes my lady."

Sansa closed the door, resting her head on the hard wooden surface. Praying to the Seven that they might save her son.

A/N: Two chapters in one night? of course I have alot of catching up to do!


	17. Chapter Fifteen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Fifteen,

The day of Crown Prince Steffon's name day was upon them, which of course meant there was to be a tourney in his honor. The king had decided that Sansa, and her retinue were to sit in the royal box with Arya, who had finally returned from her voyage to Dragonstone. The Queen had been delayed in taking her leave of Lady Shireen due to the birth of two new royal children, Prince Duncan & Princess Cassana.

Sansa had not been in the same room as her sister for years, and now she was expected to be gracious to her and hold conversation. Lancel had not joined her in the box, he's been avoiding Sansa since Leon was born. And was expected to make an appearance in the joust later that day. The girls, Breanna and Alessa watched the events with awe having never attended a tourney before.

Leon, had been left behind in the castle under the watchful eye of the Maester sent to assist him. The man was very unorthodox indeed, he was a member of the Nights Watch, and had brought his wildling wife with him to the city. Despite his vows of abstinence Samwell Tarly was very clearly a father himself. None of these things had bothered Sansa in the slightest when the rotund man had explained he had a knack for curing difficult ailments, and teaching the hearing impaired, but that was something Sansa would not have to worry about for a while, Leon after all was only two months old.

It was already the final round of the joust, Sansa had been disappointed to learn Ser Willas was not to compete at all in the tourney, It would have been an amazing bit of irony if once again he and Lancel were the last knights in the contest. She thought back to the day when she had been crowned queen of love and beauty, perhaps it had led to all that had happened since.

"Sansa?" Arya had come over to the bench occupied by Sansa. "May I sit." Before waiting for a response Arya sat herself down beside Sansa.

"Your majesty you do me a great honor." Arya snorted, finding Sansa's practiced words amusing.

"Let us talk as sisters, please." Sansa nearly snorted herself at that, but didn't think that would go down well.

"Of course Arya." She did not make eye contact with her sister, instead staring dead ahead at the currently empty jousting arena.

"Your girls are really coming into their own, it will be a privilege to have them at court." Sansa took the opportunity to glance over where her children played. Alessa was playing giddy up horses on the knee of her uncle Robb. While Breanna was deep in child like discussion with Cedric and Myrcella who beamed with joy at the amount of children around her.

"We will not be staying at court much longer I'm afraid the best environment for Leon will be at Casterly." Sansa looked at Arya, she seemed confused.

"Well yes you and Leon will be returning but-"

"But what?"

"Did your husband not tell you sister?"

"Tell me what?"

"Gendry offered Lancel a role as hand of the king." Arya really did look surprised. "Did he really say nothing to you?"

"He did not." Sansa confirmed through gritted teeth.

Below the stands, the joust was about to start. The final two jousters were Lancel and a Mystery Knight, who it was rumored was the long since missing heir to a great lord. Of course no one knew who he actually was, he stood tall and refused to remove his black steel helm. He rode with no colours, and with great skill.

Either side of the divide the two men prepared for the charge. Sansa could not help but root for this Mystery Knight, perhaps he could knock some sense into her husband. Suddenly both horses sprung into action propelling their masters toward one another. The joust was over in a flash, Lancel was somewhat unceremoniously knocked from his horse, reminding Sansa of the last time he landed on his ass.

"Well done good Ser!" The king rose to applaud the champion. "Do you have a name Ser?"

"No true name I wish to share your majesty, you may call me Ser Darksteel." The man's voice sounded vaguely familiar to Sansa, northern much like her father's voice in some ways.

"It was a well fought Bout Darksteel."

A page came to Darksteel where he had dismounted from his horse, holding a pillow with a flower crown intended for this man's Queen of Love and Beauty.

"Well Ser Darksteel is there any lady among the stands worthy of your patronage?"

"No maiden here holds my heart sire, but I have two women in mind."

"Two?" Gendry guffawed much like his father had once done so. "You are a brave man indeed to face the wrath of two women." The crowd laughed with the king this time, the free-flowing ale had dulled their senses. "Who are these two lucky ladies?"

"I hope your majesty, and my worthy opponent will not mind that I intend to give this crown to the sisters Stark." The crowd hushed now looking for any sign their victor had incurred the fury of the king.

"You most certainly may good Ser!" called the king jovially. "I warn you though, My wife and her sister are not known for sharing!" The crowd once again burst into laughter and applause.

"Do you know who he is?" Arya whispered from her seat next to Sansa. "He sounds like-"

"Father?" Sansa finished for Arya.

"No." Arya bit her bottom lip. "In a way yes, I was thinking he sounds more like uncle Edmure." The sisters stopped their hushed discussion as the Knight rode over to them.

"My lady." He nodded at Sansa, handing her one half of the floral wreath. "Your majesty." He bowed his head extending the other toward Arya.

"Thank you Ser from both I and my sister." Arya began. "Perhaps you would be willing to reveal your identity to us?" From the grate in his helmet, Sansa could see Darksteel's eye's twinkle with mischief. He kicked his steed into action riding out of the arena.

"Maybe next year Horseface!" He called back to the Queen before disappearing into the forest and from view. The crowds were silent at this obvious insult to their Queen. Arya looked dazed, Sansa finally let out a snort of Laugther.

No one had called Arya Horseface in years.

A/N: Just a little mischievous chapter for you all. -Philippe


	18. Chapter Sixteen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Sixteen,

Sansa had left her place in the royal box, finding no interest in the melee she now wandered without aim around the tourney's encampment. She still held in her hand the half a flower crown gifted to her by Darksteel. There had been no way to affix the crown to her head, despite her handmaiden Mira's b est efforts.

A roar from the stands erupted in the distance, the crowd sounded displeased which likely meant the king's favoured competitor, Prince Oberyn Martell was not doing so well against The Mountain, Gregor Clegane.

"Sansa?" She looked around for the source of the call, Sansa spotted Willas limping over.

"Ser Willas?"She smiled warmly at her old friend. "Its been years." She looked him up and down, she had seen him at Tommen's wedding and thought him to be in declining health. However now the grey in his hair did not look so bad nor the subtle lines on his face, he didn't look bad for that matter either.

"Seven years." He looked at her wistfully, her hair, still auburn was longer and darker. Her skin had darkened too from prolonged exposure to the southern sun. Sansa was unlike the girl he had known long ago now, she looked strong and proud but still beautiful.

"That long." Her words were breathy with surprise. He gave he a sheepish smile like that of a boy. They fell into an awkward silence looking at one another, not knowing for how long.

"Would you care to accompany me on a walk of the palace gardens?"

"I would love to." Sansa smiled as she took the arm Willas offered to her. Just as they reached the garden entrance a loud cheer came from the stands.

"Oberyn must be winning." Willas wondered aloud.

"Do you know the prince?" Sansa was very curious about the dornishman, having never actually met a person from Dorne.

"Yes." He gave a low chuckle. "He's why I have this actually." He held up his cane. Sansa looked shocked.

"How! and why?"

"We competed in a joust at my first tourney-"

"And he cheated?" Sansa interrupted.

"No, he was an excellent opponent, I was knocked from my horse in the first charge."

"So he won?"

"Yes, I got stuck in my stirrup and dragged my horse on top of me, crushed my leg." Sansa didn't know any of this she had always assumed some kind of war injury had befallen Willas. "Not Oberyn's fault really." He smiled. "And I suppose there are stranger ways to begin a friendship."

Willas and Sansa talked for what seemed like hours. About their children, her daughters Breanna and Alessa, how Leon's ailment was affecting the family and that there was hope. He showed her a painted miniature of his son Lucas and daughter Loreen. Willas did not talk much about his wife, making Sansa somewhat curious.

"What of your wife Willas?" He stiffened slightly.

"She perished not long ago." Sansa felt guilt settling in her stomach.

"I'm sorry I shouldn-"

"Sansa It's fine." He put his hand comfortingly on hers, before retracting it quickly nearly forgetting that she still was married. "I only feel the sadness of one who has lost a dear friend, it's my sons who are suffering the most."

"At least you mourn, I only felt joy when my first husband died."

"You did have a very noticeable spring in your step months after." Willas noticed Sansa fiddling with the tattered wreath in her hand. "Queen of love and beauty again?" She blushed slightly.

"No not really, the knight who won the joust found it amusing to play a prank on the Queen."

"How so?" Willas' face lit up with curiosity.

"He named us both queen, and demanded we get along for once. He then rode off not before calling Arya Horseface." Sansa burst out laughing, something she was only now getting the opportunity to do.

"What a strange nickname to give a Queen."

"It was something the boys back home used to call her." She smirked. "As I recall the King favored the name on official visits too."

They fell back into easy conversation, during which Willas managed to fix the flowers at the back of Sansa's head, braiding it into her hair. The pale miniature roses complimented Sansa's hair, neatly entwining themselves into the auburn locks. Soon the sun began to set on King's Landing, the setting ball of fire caught the leaves, flowers and foliage of the palace gardens, casting magnificent shadows. Sansa knew that she should be getting back soon, but did not want to voice it for fear of offending Willas.

"We should return to the Castle." He said, wistfully.

"We should." She agreed.

They both stood, and with a distance between one another walked silently back up to the Red Keep.

A/N: Greetings from Sweden. Lots of little references in this chapter, hope you guys liked it. Makes me a bit sad but looking at the plot overviews for each chapter, there's not much left for me to write. (Don't worry too much I've thought of some nice ways of extending what I have planned.) Either way this story is nearing it's close, so I would like suggestions for what I could do next, feel free to pm me or leave a suggestion in the comments. Hope you enjoyed- Phillipe.


	19. Chapter Seventeen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Seventeen,

Sansa stood silently in the throne room, watching the boring court proceedings before her. Presently two men squabbled over the slaughtering of a disputed swine. A matter hardly worthy of the king and his small council Sansa thought. Eventually after advice from Lancel, Gendry decided the best course of action was to have the alleged thief pay for the value of the meat he stole. Grumbling the man had handed over the payment, storming out followed by a now distinctly richer pig farmer.

It had been a year since Lancel had been named the Hand of the King. To Sansa's amazement he was actually doing a very good job, he even sometimes came to her for advice on matters of state asking _what would your father do?_ Her girls were enjoying life in the capital, though they were only four they were becoming proper courtiers. Alessa, was more ladylike while Breanna trained under the same master as the princes. Leon had mead improvements, while unable to hear, he was developing as any normal child would.

Two new speakers approached the King and his council, Sansa was pleased to see it was Maester Samwell and his common law wildling wife Gilly. They did not have their son with them however, he as a companion to Leon would presently be in the nursery. Sam cleared his throat, looking around the court nervously.

"Your highness." Samwell began addressing the King. Gilly nudged him and whispered

"Majesty."

"Oh yes! my apologies your highness I am nervous." Samwell corrected himself.

"It's alright Maester, what business do you bring before me and my small council?" Asked Gendry, looking at the two before him.

"Right, during an excursion to the lower city, I came across a man dying in the streets." Began Samwell.

"Commen folk dying is hardly a matter for the small council." Chided Maester Pycelle.

"He had the sweating sickness." The court murmured while the small council considered the matter. "I have some ideas on how we could protect the court and the people in the city."

"What do you suggest Sam?" Asked Lancel, leaning forward in his seat.

"The city must be quarantined, and-" Samwell seemed hesitant for some reason. "Inoculate as many as we can."

"Inoculate?"

"It's a process in which-" Began Samwell.

"It's a barbaric notion!" Scoffed Pycelle. "Your Majesty, this charlatan and shame to my order wishes us to purposefully infect people with the sickness!"

"My King! It's not like that the process is perfectly safe and has a low risk of-"

"I've heard enough Samwell." Gendry began cutting off Sam mid sentence. "Would you advise me against this Pycelle?"

"Entirely." Huffed Pycelle.

"And what about the rest of you?" The masters of coin, ships and whispers agreed with Pycelle, as did the lord commander of the Kingsguard. The master of Laws however agreed with Sam, claiming Pycelle's idea's were outdated. "Lancel? what say you?"

"I agree with Pycelle, however attempting a quarantine has merit."

Sansa was furious, she had encouraged Samwell to bring the matter before the small council, and that blind old fool Pycelle was ruining everything with his outdated views. Sansa caught Arya's eye from where she sat, her sister looked as perturbed as her. The Queen whispered something into her husband's ear, Gendry dismissed what she said before before addressing Samwell again.

"While my Wife and master of Laws would have me do as you suggested the rest of my advisors have made themselves clear, and I find myself agreeing with them." Arya stood from her seat and stormed over to Sansa.

"Come with me." She growled through gritted teeth as the court murmured about the entire spectacle.

* * *

Arya stomped through the door to her study like a petulant child, Sansa followed behind her quickly closing the door silently as she did so. The Queen slumped into an armchair by the unlit fire, holding her fist to her mouth and growling slightly.

"The sweat." She said finally looking at Sansa with red eyes."It's going to kill half the city." Sansa knew she was right, having encountered the sickness before back at Winterfell long ago.

"Maybe we should send the children away, to safety at Casterly Rock?"

"We can't." Arya sighed.

"Why not?"

"That's exactly how plagues spread selfish nobles attempting to flee." Rationally Sansa knew she was right, that didn't stop her from wanting to yell and scream at her sister.

When they were both girls at Winterfell, the plague had come to town all of the Stark children fell ill. Back then Eddard and Catelyn had been very afraid for the five children and Jon Snow. One by one all of the children had recovered, first Rickon who had been a baby at the time then Robb, Arya and Sansa all regained their health. But Jon and Bran no matter what the Maester did would not recover.

All across the north hundreds of peasants died from the sweat, a man could be well and strong in the morning and be dead by evening's fall. Lady Stark had prayed to the mother for Bran and Jon's lives to be spared. The mother must of heard her prayers and granted one life to her; Jon Snow. Bran was burnt along with the other plague victims, instead of being interred in the crypt.

"At least we will not become sick again." Sighed Sansa, taking a seat on Arya's foot stall.

"We may be immune, but many others aren't the King isn't, your husband won't be and neither will any of our children." She snorted bitterly. "At least your Cedric is safe in the north, if we all perish here at least we still have a king." Ayra sounded bitter, while Sansa could only think of the irony in that statement. "I know these inoculations are dangarous, but it could save my children."

"There's nothing you or I can do if we defy your husband, and have Samwell perform the inoculations anyway we'll all be beheaded for treason."

"I don't think he'd go that far." Arya was probably right, but Sansa still needed to point out the precarious situation they were in.

"What do we do." There was a long pause. "Sansa?"

"We wait."

It wasn't the best of answers, but it was the only one Sansa could give. Sansa was under no illusions that the plauge could kill her little family. For the first time in a long time Sansa felt truly afraid, Like the time she had spent under Robert's tyranny. The Sweat was truly the fat king personified, coming and ruining all she held dear.

The two sisters sat silently, waiting.

A/N: Who will die who will live, scary stuff. As a continuation of my statements in my previous note I would like to announce that I have edited and added new chapters, in regards to the plague plot I was just gonna briefly use it as a way to do a quick character cull, but this way I can make things more interesting. Also a small request from me, please don't request character deaths or ask for people to be spared, I know it's weird but I don't want to feel guilty for killing/not killing certain characters.

All my love- Phillipe!


	20. Chapter Eighteen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Eighteen,

Despite the best efforts put in place to quarantine the Red Keep, the Sweat found its way in to the castle. It attacked the oldest, the weakest and youngest first, Grand Maester Pycelle was carried off within hours Sansa now watched as his corpse burnt upon the great piles of bodies. The foolish old man may have lived, if he'd listened to Samwell.

Sansa re-entered the Castle only to be flagged down by one of Arya's handmaidens, the young woman Elesie Umber Panted as she reeched Sansa. Elesie was clearly panicked, desperation filled her eyes.

"My lady." She wheezed "Her grace begs you presence urgently."

"Why." Elesie shook her head violently.

"No, you must come now."

The two women ran through the castle towards the royal apartments, their progress hindered by the confines of their dresses. When they reached Arya's room the Queen was waiting for them looking quite frantic.

"They have the sweat!" Arya blurted out rushing to her sister's side. "My precious babies have this spiteful plague!" Arya was sobbing gently.

"Where are they?" Arya pointed up towards the tower.

"Samwell is with them now." She murmured, sobbing louder now.

"Arya, look at me!" The Queen did as she was commanded. "We must get the princes, they must be quarantined somewhere else in the palace." Wiping away her tears on her sleeves Arya nodded silently in agreement.

"The Maiden Vault was built just for times like these it will be suitable." She stated, now more focused than before. Sansa and Elesie followed Arya into the tower. Prince Steffon woke easily enough and helped to coax the other boy's from the tower. Soon all the princes were out of the tower. Sansa led little Ellyott who was still confused and sleepy.

"Where are we going?" The young prince asked Sansa, his voice seeping with fear.

"To a place where you'll be safe."

"Will Breanna be there?" He whispered, Sansa felt a pang at that wondering what would become of her own children. "I like Breanna, she's the only one who can beat Eddard when we spar."

"Sansa, give Ellyott to Elesie and get your children." Arya commanded. "But be quick about it!"

"Thank you, I'll be right back." Sansa sighed before running through the halls of the Castle for the second time that day. She reached her apartments in what seemed like record time and burst in haphazardly.

"My lady!?" Screeched Mira in surprise.

"Wake the girls!" She demanded. "Take them to the maiden vault, the queen is waiting there she will let you in."

"Yes my lady." Mira bowed her head in the customary fashion.

"Remember you must run, where is Leon?" Sansa had only now noticed he was not in his usual cot being watched over by Mira.

"Your lord husband has him." Sansa sighed at Mira's incompetence, responding through gritted teeth.

"And where is he?"

"My lord took him to see the horses."

"Wake the girls Mira!" Sansa commanded before running back out the door and to the stables.

* * *

It did not take Sansa long to find Lance and Leon, the former of which was sitting stoically on a bench by the stable doors. Lancel balanced Leon on his knee, bouncing him slightly. When he noticed Sansa, his expression changed to that of surprise. Having never seen his wife look so frantic, or for that matter deranged.

"Sansa?" He asked, as if to almost check if this was his wife. "What's the matter."

"Arya's sealing the children in the Maiden Vault for their protection." She walked over, nursing a stitch in her side. "Breanna and Alessa are already inside, we need to get Leon there quickly."

"I'm so sorry, but we can't."

"Why not?" Sansa was furious, she wanted to grab Leon and run as fast as she could.

"He has the feaver, his skin has the marks too."

Sansa studied her son intently, noticing all the signs Lancel had told her about. Yet still she refused to believe it, there after all was still time if she hurried now.

"We don't have time to negotiate this." Sansa spat, reaching for Leon.

"Sansa!" Lancel moved himself and Leon out of her grasp. "I won't let you risk the others."

"Arya's children are not our children I will not let my son die!"

"How can you be so selfish?" He asked her incredulously. "To wish potential death on your own niece and nephews? and are our daughters so expendable on the slight chance I may be wrong about Leon's sickness?" His words made Sansa bitter, she knew he was right but didn't want to believe it.

There was nothing she could do except collapse into the horse muck that surrounded her. The smell of horse shit filled her nostrils as she lay there sobbing on the ground. Lancel sat himself down in the muck beside Sansa, calmly stroking her now dirty auburn hair. He pulled her closer, so that she lay her head on his lap. Still crying, he let her take Leon into her arms.

"We'll make it through this." He assured her in whispers. "I promise."

* * *

They had both sat there for what seemed like hours, it was in reality only moments they allowed themselves to be weak. They rose, Lancel holding Leon and leading Sansa. Briskly they walked through the expanse of the nearly deserted Castle, most of the servents were either dead or dying and nowhere to be seen.

Eventually they found themselves across the court yard from the Maiden vault, silently they watched as Arya commanded two of the King's guard to seal the great metal tomb. With a screech the iron circle was moved into place. Locking Breanna and Alesaa away for however long the sickness stayed in King's Landing.

Samwell Tarly took this opportunity to waddle over.

"Lancel, Sansa." He greeted solemnly."Leon is not inside?" He jerked his head toward the door as he asked the question.

"He has the sickness." Lancel informed him.

"Oh dear." Samwell's face dropped. "I'll do the best I can to care for the lad I vow it."

"See to it that you do." Lancel handed Leon to Sansa, now that the threat of him being allowed into the vault was over he felt his wife could be trusted with him once again. "I must go I have many matters to attend to." With that Lancel marched off, Sansa had no idea where to.

"What of your wife and son?" Sansa asked, curious how the wildling was faring.

"Inside."He made a motion to the vault.

"Good." Sansa murmured. "How do I treat him Samwell? Can I save my son?"

"I'm willing to say he has a chance, come lady Sansa there's a ward of sorts I've set up for the younger ones afflicted." He led Sansa forward.

It was comforting to think that all may yet be well in the long run. But unlike Lancel, Sansa was unwilling to make any grand promises to herself. Better to accept the facts now, than spend years mourning a lost child like her mother had done.

Sansa vowed something to herself now; she would be strong no matter what hardships came her way.

A/N: I actually cried a little as I wrote this. -Phillipe.


	21. Chapter Nineteen

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Nineteen,

Sansa sat silently by Leon's bedside, she had previously been joined by Lancel who'd been sitting with Leon day and night. Lancel was now in his own bed fighting the sickness, having not become immune during his childhood, thus never becoming immune like Sansa. Leon wasn't doing much better either, even now her son's fever burnt her hand to touch. The boy slept, but writhed in pain.

Samwell had been using the Grand dining hall as an impromptu ward for the children in the keep, and sleeping in a cot in the corner of the large room so that he could keep a watchful eye on his charges. So far it had been working, from his treatments many of the children had been getting better. Princess Cassana for instance was now in the recovery stages of the illness. Sansa herself had been helping the Maester, as had the queen.

For now though, she was taking a short break from soothing the children of others. She for the next hour would focus only upon Leon. Behind her the squeak of the broth trolley could be heard. Sansa had commanded that her handmaiden Mira help too by preparing and serving meals to the sick. Sansa turned toward the noise, preparing to greet her servant. Instead she was met with the Blue eyes of Willas Tyrell.

"Where's Mira?" Sansa asked, slightly worried for the girl.

"Who?"

"Mira my handmaiden." Sansa explained calmly.

"The man in the kitchen couldn't find her." He wheeled closer. "So he demanded I help instead, very rude man that Hot-Pie." Willas picked up a ladle from the trolley and spooned a large helping of beef broth into a bowl. He held it out to Sansa.

"Thank you." She took the bowl from Willas, gently waking Leon from his sleep so that he could eat.

"May I join you?" Asked Willas, indicating the empty stool beside Sansa.

"Certainly." He sat on the stool with ease, resting his cane upon the wall.

"Thank you, I needed a break my leg's killing me." He laughed lightly as Sansa spooned broth into Leon's mouth.

"Is the leg getting worse?" She asked concerned for his well being.

"With age yes." He answered flatly, causing the two to fall into an easy silence as Sansa spooned the liquid into Leon's mouth. Willas watched the mother and son, happy enough to just sit for a while. Eventually, Sansa ran out of broth to feed to Leon, who quickly fell asleep once again. Leon slept easier than before now, his chest rising and falling gently.

Their silence continued, while most would find the absence of words unsettling Sansa found it brought her a comforting sense of peace. She even chose not to stop Willas when he took her hand, while the gesture would be considered inappropriate if seen by other courtiers. Sansa knew it was only meant as a gesture of support and kindness from Willas, who Sansa mused thought of her only as a friend.

* * *

Sansa returned to her chambers that night incredibly tired after having spent the day on her feet caring for the sick, and visiting Lancel who seemed to be in good spirits despite being unable to keep down the food he was brought. She kicked off her plain slippers, they were now worn from such strenuous use. Tomorrow she would wear boots instead, far more practical.

Upon entering her bed chamber, Sansa collapsed face first into the soft peacock feather pillows that awaited her. She had neglected to change out of her day clothes, although they would be comfortable enough to sleep in. Less concerning to Sansa, was the whereabouts of her Handmaiden Mira. Something come morning she would deeply regret. But for now all Sansa cared about was sleep.

* * *

She was in the cursed Godswood again, this time all the trees were made of fine silver, and encrusted with sapphires. Pale moonlight illuminated the grove, casting shadows over the creepy trees. By the Weirwood tree, a grand cradle fit for the noblest of children had been left. Sansa walked towards it so that she could investigate further.

It was ornate, carved with many a horrific battle scene, the battle of the Trident's climax when Robert crushed Rhaegar's chest killing the Targaryen prince, it also had the sack of kings landing it visceral detail the brutal murders of the Targaryen children, and their mother. The final motif was that of the Mad-King, betrayed by his Kingsguard.

Sansa had not yet dared to look inside the cradle, fearing what may lay inside. Slowly, she peeked over the edge of the engraved blackwood horrified by what lay inside. A mangled corpse of an infant boy had been swaddled and laid to rest on the soft velvet bedding. Sansa wanted to vomit, but all she could do was stagger away from the grizzly scene.

* * *

Sansa woke with a start, she was back in her bedchamber once again. The dress she had slept in was now wrinkled and sweat stained from her nightmare. She took a moment to remind herself, that there was no threat, and certainly no dead babies. Sunlight was already seeping in through the windows. Sansa sat up in her bed, looking around the room she spotted Mira still asleep on her smaller bed.

"Mira!" She called loudly to wake the girl. "Mira!" She called again when the girl did not hear her, Sansa pushed herself out of her warm bed. "Seven hells Mira! wake up." She was at Mira's bedside now, attemting to shake the girl awake.

She found that Mira was cold and clammy to the touch, Sansa let go of Mira who's head lulled backwards revealing blank staring eyes and an agape mouth. To Sansa it felt like hours before she let out a loud scream. She backed away from the plague stricken corpse, letting herself hide in the corner. It was not long before two men came bursting through the door to Sansa's room. The first, was one of her guards Ser Wilfrid. The other man who despite being fast, moved with a distinct limp.

"My lady." Wilfrid drew his sword. "Where is the intruder?"

"It's Mira." Sansa whispered back at him. The Knight looked very confused at this.

"But, Mira is permitted entrance to this room?" Was his response.

"She's dead you imbecile!" Sansa returned at him, in awe at his incompetence.

"What should I do?" He asked Willas, instead of his employer.

"Move her body you fool!" Wilfrid obliged scooping up the lifeless body of Mira. Her head drooped towards Sansa once again, the unseeing eyes bore into her skull. Mira had only reached her fifteenth name day a fortnight ago, and now Wilfrid was leaving with the small blonde haired girl in his arms. Sansa noticed Ser Willas was still in the room.

"Would you help me up?" Sansa could feel herself shaking on the floor.

"Of course." He limped over to Sansa, removing his cloak as he did so. "Here, take this you're shaking." His voice was heavy with concern. Once she had wrapped the cloak around herself like a blanket. Willas pulled her up, holding her stable while she swayed.

"Could you help me down to the hall?" She asked him softly. "I would like to see Leon." Willas extended his arm to her, she held on still in too much shock to walk by herself. It was a strange feeling but she felt like she could be weak around Willas, like he would understand.

Willas began to walk Sansa out of her apartments then, as they got further away from where Mira had died Sansa felt herself becoming calmer, and stronger too. By the time she found herself outside the great hall. Sansa was walking by herself again. It was at this point Willas had to leave for the time being, as he had duties else where in the Keep.

"Good day Lady Sansa." He bowed to her, as a mark of respect despite being of a higher rank than her. While he dipped, Willas never broke eye contact with Sansa.

"See you soon Ser Willas." She smiled weakly at him as he backed away from her, for as long as he could Willas kept his eyes on Sansa, not knowing when might be the last time he saw her. After all this world was cruel, and more than willing to take away those he loved.

Once he had turned the corner Sansa walked into the Hall, she would first talk to Samwell and see what needed to be done. Then carry out those tasks, all the while she would be ever-so-slightly distracted by the memory of vibrant blue eyes and curling brown hair.

A/N: Mira's not the first i'll kill and she's not the last, To a certain reviewer I asked NICELY for people not to request deaths, It was beyond rude of you to do so anyway, I hope you can understand my frustration I only ask that you refrain from doing so again, I would hate to turn on review moderation again as I have always felt reviewers should be allowed to speak their mind anonymously. I can understand why past actions may have made Gendry a popular charterer to kill nevertheless don't do it again.

Good news and bad news, the bad news is only six chapters left. The good news, I'm planning a rewrite and expansion of the previous fic, The Name Day Dance. I would actually appreciate opinions on that one as I'm A: Not sure how to go about it and B: still considering what to expand on.

Anyway, enough of me prattling on, hope you enjoyed this chapter. -Phillipe


	22. Chapter Twenty

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twenty,

Sansa pressed a cold towel to Leon's still warm forehead. His red-golden hair was drenched in sweat, his normally bright green eyes looked tired. She feared that after the events of the previous day, Mira being struck down so quickly by the sickness, It would not be long before death came for her son too. Behind her, some of the silent sisters worked. Most of their order had begun to recover, and had been sent by the High Septon to assist in the keep. Because of this Samwell had told Sansa, and Arya that they need no longer assist him allowing them both to spend time with their children.

There had been no word from the Maiden Vault either, Sansa knew nothing of what was happening inside. She imagined however that after two-weeks inside tensions between the children must be becoming pretty high. Smiling to herself at the thought she made a mental note to pity Gilly, the Septas and Kingsgurad inside the vault with the nine or so children.

 _"May I look at your son for a moment my lady?"_ Asked a silent sister, using her hand language.

"You may." The Sister gently examined Leon then, looking at the spots on his back, checking his temperature and carefully looking down his little throat. Seeming satisfied with things she signed a good-day and a thank-you to Sansa as she wrote something down on a piece of parchment, before moving on to the serving girl in the bed beside Leon's.

Eventually, She reached the screen that kept the still ill prince Duncan away from the others sick in the hall. It was not long before the woman rushed out of the secluded spot, hitched up her simple skirts and rushed out of the hall. Sansa knew the silent sisters were a strange bunch, but this was just utterly bizarre.

Minutes later she came running back in with Samwell and Arya following behind. Swiftly, Sansa trailed behind them dreading what she would see on the other side of the thin curtain. Before she could see further, Arya let out a low mournful moan. When she did her heart broke a little at the sight before her. Arya was knelt on the floor, clutching the body of prince Duncan to her. Samwell turned to the Sister.

"And you said you just found him, on the floor?" Samwell sounded both concerned and angry. The silent sister nodded frantically. "Who did this?" He asked himself more than anything. It was at this point Sansa realized this was no plague death.

Sansa moved across the small space, joining the sobbing Arya on the floor. She pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair in the same way their mother used to do. Sansa now saw the dark purple marks on Duncan's neck. Cursing internally, she wondered who could have done this and why? Arya had began to scream low in her throat, pleading with the gods to take her instead. The silent sister, carefully took the dead infant from his mother's arms.

"No!" Arya Begged, but Sansa held on tight.

"They have to Arya, let them take him." She continued to smooth down Arya's long dark hair as the Queen buried her face in Sansa's shoulder.

"I'll take good care of him your majesty, I promise." Samwell's voice was controlled and flat, the Maester was trying to hold in his rage at the sight of the slain child. The silent sister had already wrapped Duncan in a cloth of gold, walking away with the infant briskly.

"Don't burn him!" Arya begged Sam. "Please don't burn him." She sobbed looking up at the Maester.

"We won't." He agreed before leaving the now howling Queen and her sister in peace. For hours Sansa sat with her there, as time went on Arya collapsed further into her grief. Eventually curling up on the floor as she hit the ground with her fist, begging for this all to just be a nightmare asking the gods to swap their places. When Arya stopped, night had fallen. The queen just lay still with red eyes looking at nothing.

"I want to leave this place." She whispered at Sansa, not looking away.

"Ok, lets go." Sansa pulled Arya to her feet, leading her out of the cordoned off area. Silently they made their way out of the hall. Only pausing momentarily to check Leon, who was sleeping soundly and calmly his chest rising and falling in a gentile motion. Sansa took Arya from the hall and back to the royal apartments.

Meanwhile back in the great hall a bed lay empty next to Leon. No one noticed the missing serving girl leaving the Keep. She slipped through the deserted streets of King's Landing, careful not to be spotted after curfew. Once in a secluded ally way, she pulled off the tight face mask she had been wearing for the past week.

The Waif, now looking once again like herself had finally accomplished the task set for her. She cared not why the exiled Targaryen King wanted a baby dead. The man was clearly insane. She didn't even care for the large sum of gold he had provided her for the task. The only thing the Waif cared about was the satisfaction this would bring to the Many Faced God.

She found herself at the alley's end, there was a window that lead out into the night and over the face of the cliff. The Waif jumped landing in the cold waters below. She did not have to swim long, soon finding herself within the boat she had moored secretly on a rocky out crop. She sailed away into the night, very pleased with herself.

She had claimed many lives during her month in Westeros, having been the one to bring the sickness in the first place. She smiled gleefully knowing that her god would reward her efforts greatly.

A/N: nearly done with the plague section now, killing everyone is getting tiresome.


	23. Chapter Twenty-One

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twenty-One,

The day after Prince Duncan's murder, a raven arrived from the pretender across the narrow sea, Viserys Targaryen. He offered condolences for the death, describing in detail how sorry he was for each painful moment the young prince went through. While he had not stated it outright, the wording and knowledge of the crime made it clear he had been the one to have Duncan killed.

After that the King had stormed around the castle howling with rage and brandishing his Warhammer. For the most part all Gendry had done was curse and describe accurately exactly how he was going to kill the platinum haired Viserys.

"I'll smash his ugly inbred face!" He had bellowed as he swung his hammer at a suit of armor on display outside the Apartments of the Hand.

"Perhaps I should go out and calm him down?" Asked Lancel as he made to get out of his bed.

"No, you're still weak." Sansa answered sharply, pushing him gently back onto the pillows.

"But-"

"I said no!" Sansa sighed. "I will go talk to the king." Lancel was about to protest but Sansa shot him a death glare. Sansa left Lancel's room and quietly made her way to the hallway outside.

"Leave me!" Gendry yelled at Sansa as soon as he spotted her at the other end of the hallway. The king was incredibly disheveled, still in his night clothes and drenched in sweat his hair was unkempt and stuck up in all the wrong places. He was furious with flared nostrils and pure rage in his dark eyes.

"With respect, your majesty, you are in clear need of my help."

"What help could _you_ give me." He growled back at her. "What are you to me anyway? Sister by law? former betrothed? Stepmother? or do you fancy yourself hand of the king now that Lancel is practically dead-!"

"Shut up you bull-headed fool!" Sansa cut him off mid sentence, Gendry looked shocked for a moment.

"You can't talk to me like that you bitch I am the king!" Sansa closed the distance between them in one swift motion, then slapped Gendry hard across his face. He dropped his Warhammer and held his cheek where a bright red hand mark had appeared.

"And now I've struck the king!" Sansa snarled at him. "You're a fool if you think any assassin was sent here to kill a sick infant, whoever it was had been sent for you, Viserys couldn't get what he wanted so sending you into a grief filled rage while you battle one of the most deadly sicknesses is the best that coward could do!"

"How would you know all this."

"Because it make _sense,_ think about it Gendry with you dead who sits on the iron throne?"

"Steffon?" He questioned unsure as to where she was going with this.

"Exactly a boy of nine is far easier to defeat in battle than a grown man!" She could see the King was mulling this over himself. "Now." She began composing herself as the rage began to leave Gendry. "If I was your hand I would _strongly_ advise you return to your bed until you are well once again."

"Yes, yes that would be for the best." He muttered, now in a slight stupor. Without any further warning Gendry began to move down the hallway before disappearing from view. At the same moment a confused looking Lancel poked his head round the door.

"You _hit_ him?" He asked dumbfounded.

"He needed a slap." Sansa answered flatly, not mentioning that she had wanted to do that for years. Sansa made to move back toward Lancel before tripping over the Warhammer and falling face first on the floor. She landed in a crumpled pile, and was detangling herself from the floor just as she had managed to stand again she realized Lancel had rushed over to help. "I'm fine go back to bed!"

"But you fell, and your nose is bleeding!"

"I will survive go back to bed."

"The king's Warhammer, I should return it to the armory." Between the king and Lancel, the men of King's Landing were really beginning to get on her nerves.

"If I'll slap the king Lancel, Don't think I won't hesitate to knock some sense into you too." She told him sweetly at his suggestion.

"What should I do then."

"Go back to bed." Lancel again began to protest. "Bed!" She commanded before he could speak. Lancel huffed and walked slowly back to the door.

"You've become a real she-wolf in your later years you know that right." Sansa took of her slipper and threw it at him. "Alright! Alright I'm sorry!" He said in response to the shoe hitting him on the side."Going to bed now." He closed the door behind him, leaving Sansa with the task of returning the hammer.

* * *

So far, Sansa had managed to get Gendry's hammer down three flights of stairs and into the court yard. The great hulking piece of forged iron weighed a tonne Sansa believed, It had been forged by the King himself and had had Stags-heads worked into it's design and cut topaz worked into the hilt. The Warhammer itself was truly a masterpiece, Sansa just wished someone else was carrying it.

"Do you want some help with that?" Sansa glance behind her and smiled warmly. It was Willas, hobbling over his cane clack-clacking on the stone floor.

"I would appreciate it." He took the Warhammer, carrying it with ease. "Is that not too heavy, for you." Sansa internally kicked herself, worried her wording may come off as insulting.

"No, it's very lightweight actually." If he had taken offense he wasn't showing it."Why do you have the King's hammer, if you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, that." Sansa blushed remembering the events earlier that morning."Well," She began to explain to him in detail how Gendry had been storming around the tower of the hand smashing things and disturbing everyone, and that she had had to calm him down by chastising him and eventually slapping him across the face. By this time they were nearly at the armory, Willas looked shocked.

"You did what!" He looked incredulous, as though about to laugh."To the king"

"He didn't seem all that angry about it." Sansa told him, more musing to herself than anything else. They had now reached the armory, Willas briefly entered the large room, replacing the Warhammer back to it's place with the rest of Gendry's magnificent battle attire. He came out and smiled at Sansa.

"Would you care to accompany me to the gardens?" He began. "Haven't been in a while and it reminds me of Highgarden."

"Certainly, Willas."

* * *

They now found themselves in the palace gardens talking merrily much like they had a year ago on the day of prince Steffon's name day tourney. The lush and exotic plants were more unkempt than usual due to all the gardeners being dead or sick. Sansa only thought the overgrown look brought out the beauty of the place. She looked at Willas now, he looked tired even somewhat sad.

"Is there something the matter my lord?" Asked Sansa, now noticing the sorrow in his eyes.

"No we lost some more people this morning." Sansa had not heard anything about any more deaths, in fact most of those still ill were likely to recover.

"Who?" She whispered, fearful of his answer.

"Tommen, I was there I wrote down his final wishes left everything to little Cersei." The poor child was only now passing her second month of life, having killed her mother coming into the world.

"No." She whispered. "Not _Tommen_."

"You were fond of him?"

"He was the only one of my stepchildren who showed me any kindness." All those years ago Tommen had still been a boy of eleven, and latched onto any mother figure he could find. Which had turned out to be Sansa, he had sung for her, brought flowers he found on trips out of the keep. Sansa had taught him to read herself, Robert had told her not to bother calling the boy dimwitted.

"I'm sorry, I should not have been the one to tell you." He apologized quickly. "you have my sympathies my lady."

"It's alright."

"Do you think-" He began before pausing. "No forget it."

"I think, yes do I think of what?" She asked him curious of his intent. He inhaled sharply before asking her his burning question, one he'd had on his mind for years.

"That if you could go back, to the summer of Steffon's birth all those years ago." He began quickly before looking into her eyes deeply, searching for answers. "That you would have accepted my proposal of marriage instead of Robert's?" Sansa stared at him a million different thoughts spinning in her head all at once.

"I had no choice." She whispered not breaking eye contact."I never knew!" How could her father of done this to her, allowed his own daughter to suffer a year under the tyranny of Robert.

"Sansa, I'm sorry I should not have-" She had began to cry slightly, a tear silently rolled down her cheek. He moved closer to her on the stone bench they shared, he moved a hand up to her delicate face and wiped away the tear. He did not remove it however, instead he gently caressed her cheek by moving his thumb in a slow motion.

"I love you." She whispered closing her blue eyes, in some ways they barely knew each other yet she still felt a strong pull towards him. He moved himself toward her, pressing his forehead against her own.

"I love you too" Scared of the repercussions of his next move, but ultimately not caring. He leaned in fully gently kissing Sansa on her red lips. Not sure if he should continue he began to pull away, but Sansa pulled him back moving her hand to the back of his neck. They did not know for how long they stayed that way before breaking apart.

"This is wrong." He muttered.

"I know." Sansa wouldn't look at him now.

"I'm sorry my lady, I will leave." As she heard his cane tapping in the distance she wanted to run after him and beg him to stay. She remained where she sat, knowing she could never allow herself to be so week again.

Across from where she sat, a pair of eyes were fixed on Sansa. They did not feel angry at what they had seen only they would pity, eventually discuss the matter with Sansa. But for now other things had to be her main focus, her son Leon being the most important. Stealthily the Watcher snuck out of the gardens and back to their chambers, in their heart they know they already forgave Sansa's indiscretion. It did not stop them form feeling empty.

A/N: Long chapter, a lot of things happened. Really wanted to get some more SansaXWillas stuff in here, Getting ever closer to the end of the story now guys, its been a real interesting ride so far, please favorite/follow/review if you're enjoying this which I hope you are. Until next time - Phillipe

P/S: Nearly left the prompt in for this chapter, now that would have been embarrassing.-Phillipe


	24. Chapter Twenty-Two

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twenty-Two,

After Willas had left the gardens, Sansa was at a loss for what to do or what to think. it was now late in the day and dark clouds were blotting out the sun in the sky, as if to match Sansa's foul mood. With little surprise for the woman sitting under a giant yew tree, the skies above erupted into a great down pour, filtering through the green trees above and onto Sansa's auburn hair. She lifted herself from her seat, running to the Keep's entrance before she became too drenched in rainwater.

Mournfully she moved her soaked body toward her court apartments. Once inside she was about to call for Mira, before she remembered the girl was dead. How many had died she wondered, many too many Sansa thought as she unlaced herself from her dress. Once this crisis was over she would have to make new household appointments. Once out of her wet clothes Sansa dressed herself in a night gown and robe before turning in early for the night. Somehow the day had felt like a week, and her week like a month.

Sansa fell asleep relatively quickly, it like usual was not an easy sleep her recurring and cryptic nightmares plagued her once again. As she tossed and turned in her sheets, a letter was being written; for her eyes only.

* * *

Once more Sansa found herself in the Godswood. This time a cheerful party was in full swing, Sansa approached the merrymakers cautiously fearful of how they may react to her presence. It came as a surprise to her when she was greeted by the old queen Cersei. Silently the long dead queen beckoned her over.

"What a surprise it is my dear that you've joined us." She smiled before adding. "Temporarily at least."

"What is this place?"

"Haven't you guessed yet?" She laughed wickedly. "Look around you, who do you see?" Sansa looked, she saw many familiar faces here, Mira who smiled at Sansa as she talked with Tommen and Iona. All three waved at her before returning to their chatter, sat by the Weirwood tree was Bran happily feasting upon a tart. Her grandfathers Hoster and Rickard arm wrestled on a stump, as they were cheered on by her aunt Lyanna and uncle Brandon and a silver haired man she didn't recognize, there were others too as she looked around the bustling party.

That's when she saw them, with the young prince Duncan in their arms. Eddard and Catelyn Stark, mother and father, husband and wife; lord and lady. she turned back to Cersei now asking permission with her eyes.

"You need not ask." She sighed. "We are of equal status after all."

She left then and walked, awestruck at seeing her mother and father once again. As she held Duncan, Catelyn turned toward Sansa and beamed merrily.

"Sansa!, my darling Sansa!" She handed the child to Eddard then who kept his distance. Lady Stark then embraced her daughter holding her close to her. "We heard you were visiting."

"Mother?" She asked uncertainly, unsure if this apparition was really her mother.

"It's really me." She told her as answering her internal questions. "Ned!" He mother bellowed at her father. "Come here at once to talk with your daughter!" She hadn't seen her father since her short marriage to the king, during which he'd been dismissed as hand and sent off back to Winterfell. He'd later died after the Frey rebellion, Sansa had been riding day and night to see her father before he died. By the time She'd reached her home, Eddard was already dead and Robb was lord.

"Sansa, It's good to see you." He held little Duncan in his arms, the child slept soundly. "I'm sorry for all the ways that I wronged you, I should have been a better father to you."

"You should have." She responded emotion seeping into her voice now. "I suffered for years because of what _you_ did! You took away my choices, my chance at happiness, and all you say is sorry while that monster you called a best friend is probably around here somewhere drinking ale and groping whores!"

" _Robert_." her mother snarled, looking angrily at her husband. "Is not in this place." She finished, looking back at Sansa. "He's somewhere I cannot talk of to you."

"Sansa, please understand the severity of the situation I was in." She looked away from her father as the silver haired man approached, he was handsome and had bright purple eyes. He grinned warmly at all of them.

"Are you Ayra or Sansa?" He asked by way of greeting.

"Sansa." She answered, curious as to who the man was.

"Ah yes I was told you look more like your mother while your sister looks more like my Lyanna."

"Who are you?"

"Sansa!" Her mother chided. "Don't be rude! Rhaegar here should have been king you know." It all clicked finally for Sansa then who this man was.

"Rhaegar Targaryen?"

"Yes I suppose I am." Answered Rhaegar. "How's Jon Snow by the way? information on the living is hard to come by these days you see and well the last one to join us was poor Duncan here and he's a baby so can't tell me much about-" The prince was cut off by a shout from Bran.

"We have a new arrival! everyone come quick." Rhaegar looked dissapointed then.

"Time for you to go then I suppose, you'll have to tell me about Jon next time I suppose."

"Next time?"

"Don't worry." He assured her. "You won't be back for a long time I promise." He ran off then toward a sickly looking shadowy figure everyone was crowding around.

"You have to go now Sansa, until next time." He father smiled apologetically as he embraced her in a half-hug. When he let go Sansa could feel herself being dragged away and plunged into a cold night like pool.

* * *

She awoke with a start with a frantic banging at her chamber door. In flashes she remembered the curious dream she'd had, all the dead people she had known, and some she hadn't like Rhaegar. She was pulled from her train of thought again as the loud knocking persisted at her door.

"My Lady Sansa!" Called Rolf, Lancel's steward. "I have urgent news." Sansa hurried out of her bed, pulling back on her thick night robe as means of making herself decent. She ran to the entrance to her apartments, stopping Rolf mid knock.

"My lady." He knelt before her, holding out a letter.

"What is this?" She looked at the paper curiously.

"Lady Sansa i'm so sorry-" At that she tore into the letter, getting a sinking feeling in her chest as she began to read the words inscribed there by her husband.

 _To my dear Sansa,_

 _If you are reading this, then I am no longer with you. I've been feeling week for days now, and I've known since the start that I would not survive this sickness. I was in the gardens yesterday, I saw you and Tyrell. I understand and forgive you for that indiscretion, I also approve he is a fine man and I skilled warrior I hope he brings you happiness._

 _There are a few things I wish to say of our children now, tell them I'm sorry by the way when they're old enough to understand of course. I should not have left them so soon. Breanna my first born I suppose, she'll be a warrior and fight in tourneys perhaps she will win them unlike me I only hope this world does not reject her for following her own path in this life, and that she will do as she pleases any way for it is short.  
_

 _Alessa, one day she'll be as beautiful as you are Sansa, bards will sing songs of her and men for thousands of leagues will fall in love with her. Many of them will be unworthy of her hand, like your first husband was unworthy of you Sansa. Allow her to marry whomever she chooses no matter what, the same goes for all our children do not allow them to be trapped without love like so many others. She and Breanna must remain here in King's Landing.  
_

 _I also wanted you to know, I've never shared Tywin's secret with anyone. I suppose you and you alone are now the only person alive with that knowledge. I hope for your sake, and that of the realm you do not share this information with anyone else._

 _Finally, Leon. I don't know what to say of him. He'll never remember me, which is probably for the best I've been less of a father than I should have been. Samwell told me he's smart. He'll make a great lord, better than me. I want him to be lord of Casterly Rock, I really do but for now he's too young to take that place. I want you to take charge, until his majority. Make sure he grows into a good man, an honorable man one that wields whatever power he has for good in this world. Protect him Sansa, promise me you'll protect him. Promise me Sansa._

 _My head feels heavy now, I have not got long left._

 _With all my love, Goodbye Breanna, Alessa, Leon and you too Sansa_

 _-Lancel Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Hand of the King and Knight of the Realm._

Sansa finished Lancel's last letter, tears stinging her eyes. She pushed past Rolf and worked her way up the stairs of the tower to Lancel's chambers. Forcing her way inside she found the silent sisters had already come and were preparing his body already. They had put stone eyes on his closed ones. Sansa noticed they were blue.

"They need to be green." A silent sister looked at her curious. "The eyes need to be green, his eyes are green." She nodded removing the incorrectly colored stone's from Lancel's cold face. Before she could replace them another silent sister led her out of the room and closed the door behind Sansa, locking it for safe measure.

She sunk down onto the floor now, she felt time pass by her like a fluid she was drowning in. Sansa felt guilty, angry and sad all at the same time, she felt like she would rip and crumble form the strain of so many emotions at once. She couldn't process this not fully, the words of Lancel's letter his cold body all of these things made no sense.

"Sansa." She turned to look at Maester Sam. "I have news." She feared what kind of news this would be, in the night Leon too must have died.

"I want to see Leon one last time." Samwell looked at her puzzled, before it clicked in his head.

"No! Leon's alive." He told her. "He's recovered." Sansa felt herself lighten, warmth filled her body.

"The sickness is gone?"

"Yes!" He answered her excitedly. Sansa felt elated, her son would survive after all. The fear and pressure that had loomed over her for the past month had finally dissipated.

"Take me to him" And without any further prompting from her he did.

A/N: I'd like to start this note of by thanking everyone for reading and, those of you who have followed until this point. I'd also like to say how much of a fun character Lancel was to write, in some ways he has been the hardest to portray true-ish to his show counterpart. And though he's dead, his and Sansa's paths may cross again perhaps in the otherworld... Other than that I had a wonderful time writing this chapter, until next time -Phillipe.

 **In Memoriam:**

 **Lancel Lannister Chapter One-Chapter Twenty Two**


	25. Chapter Twenty-Three

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twenty-Three,

After months of waiting, the sickness had finally left King's Landing as had the warmth of the summer. While she found the cold of that morning refreshing in some ways, Sansa more found it to be a hindrance in getting to the sept of Baelor. Snow had already started to fall on King's Landing, making movement around the city difficult for all.

In the weeks since Lancel's death, Sansa had not had anymore of her strange dreams. Lancel, had already been sent back to Casterly Rock. By now he would be in the Lannister's Crypt waiting for his interment. Finally, Sansa and the two guards she had to accompany her reached the great sept.

"Wait outside." She commanded them, silently they took up their positions in the snow. Sansa entered the giant Sept quietly, so not to disturb the only other living person within its walls. Unlike the outside, Baelor's Sept was warm. All of the sconces in the walls had been lit keeping the room lit. At the center of the Sept, watched by the seven stood the king, watching over a little body in state. He looked up at Sansa, realizing he was not alone.

Duncan was being given proper rights, his little body dressed in the finest gold silks with a little crown fixed on his head. His eyes had been covered with the blue eye stones, and concealing powder had been applied to his neck hiding the bruise marks left by the assassin.

"Am I disturbing you, your Majesty?" He shook his head to indicate not.

"I know why you're here." He sighed. "You wish to go home."

"Yes."

"What should I do?"

"Your grace?" She asked him confused.

"To Viserys Targaryen." He bent over the crib housing the body of Duncan, gently he stroked his thumb over the boy's head. "I could have one of his sons killed, or-"

"You would sentence an innocent child to die?" She questioned him unbelieving that Gendry would do anything like that.

"Why not? my father wanted to do it."

"And why would you want to be like your father." She said plainly. "Robert was a tyrant, a bully and a murderer."

"He was my father and your husband, careful that your next words are not treason."

"He was terrible King." If Gendry was angry at this, he did not show it. "You should wait your grace, the Targaryen's have but a handful of men in their army. In a year when all have recovered from this sickness call the banners and take Yunkai with overwhelming force."

"You sound just like him." He smiled bitterly.

"When Lancel was hand I often-"

"I'm not talking about Lancel, Sansa." He looked at he now with her tear reddened eyes. "You sound like your Father."

* * *

It was time now for Sansa and Leon to leave King's Landing now, before the roads became impossible to travel on. The girls had been very upset at Sansa for leaving them behind. Breanna had stopped talking to Sansa, while Alesaa cried and begged to come too. Sansa wished that she could take them, but it had been one of Lancel's requests that they remain. They would not remain in the capital alone however, their grandmother Dorna would care for them during their stay.

Maester Sam and his family would also be joining them on the road west, he had merrily agreed to remain Leon's personal tutor. One day he would start to teach him the language of signs. Within the hour Sansa's trip would be underway, first she had to say a few goodbyes. Standing on the steps of the keep to watch her depart were Breanna, Alessa and Arya.

Sansa made her way up the flight of stairs to the top where they stood. Arya, like many in the city wore the black robes of mourning, she had bound her hair back away from her face in contrast to the free flowing look she often went for.

"I hope you have a safe journey sister." Arya pulled Sansa into a hug. "May we meet again."

"We will, I promise." As the queen left to attend to her duties, Sansa hoped she would fulfill that promise one day. She looked now to her sullen daughters. Breanna, had with her her wooden training sword, While Alessa just stood sulking in a lavender dress.

"Breanna." Sansa addressed the elder of her daughters.

"Alessa tell mother I shan't be speaking to her today." She stated to her sister.

"Mother, Breanna's n-not talking t-to you." Alessa got out between sobs.

"Well then tell your sister I love her and want her to look after you while you're both here, you can only trust each other."

"But why can't we come with you?" Alessa sobbed, eyes begging her mother.

"Because it's what your father wanted."

"Why!" Breanna demanded looking at her mother now. "Is it because you love Leon more than us!"

"Bree, no!" It was to late, the wilder of her two daughters had already stormed off. She looked at Alessa now, who would not make eye contact with Sansa.

"Safe journey mother." She mumbled before going after her sister. Sasna would have gone after the two if it were not time for the carriages to leave. Wistfully, she returned to her carriage where Leon was already asleep. The group of carriages sprung into motion, making their way out of King's Landing. It would be a long journey, continuing for weeks, Sasna found herself to be tired so she joined Leon in sleep.

* * *

She dreamed, it was unlike her usual dreams because she was for once not in the nightmarish Godswood. She rode a single horse, looking behind her Sansa spotted a shadowy figure, while they did not seem dangerous Sansa's dream figures usually attacked her. She kicked the horse sending it into a frantic bolt away from the shadowy man. He called after her, it was distorted however like an echo.

"Sansa!" it called, but it quickly fell behind her soon vanishing from her view altogether.

* * *

Willas reached a split in the road, one way would lead him further south toward home; toward Highgarden and his children. The other led west to Casterly rock and Sansa. He started his horse at a slow pace down the Casterly road, the snow was becoming thick now and soon the road back would be so laden with blankets of snow he would not be able to get back.

He could still see the Highgarden road, where he should be going. Winter could easily last over a year, he pondered this as he continued to ride along the long stretch of road before him. In the distance a train of carriages disappeared from his view. Was it really fair to Lucas and Loreen to abandon them in Highgarden again.

He came to a halt atop his horse, looking back and forth to the south road he'd not taken and the westward road he wasted to. Without another thought, he turned around on his chestnut steed setting it into a gallop back toward Highgarden.

Back to home.

A/N: Not long left now! I'd like to thank all of my new followers for following, and everyone for the reviews so far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter they'll be a new one soon enough. If you like my work please follow/fave -Phillipe


	26. Chapter Twenty-Four

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twenty-Four,

It had been five years since the great plague claimed the lives of so many in King's Landing, though the loss of those no longer living was still strongly felt in Casterly Rock. Sansa watched now as her son Leon, the young Lord of Casterly was being taught hand-speak by Maester Sam. Leon had turned out to be very astute in his learning, and was able to communicate in the common tongue. Albeit with a strange numbness to it.

Despite his relative young age and naivete, Leon was becoming an excellent leader in his own right. Sansa often wondered if the boy would need her much longer, rationally of course he needed her still being aged only six. He looked very much like his late father, only younger and with curled reddish-gold hair and bright blue eyes.

He was even becoming skilled in the art of swordcraft, often sparring against little Sam in the training yard. It would however be foolish for him ever to go into battle willingly, but Sansa had no doubt he would do as he pleased anyway. Sansa was suddenly dragged out of her pleasant thoughts by Casterly Rock's steward, Jarron.

"My lady." He bowed curiously. "There is a rider here to see you."

"Who is it." She looked at him curiously.

"He would not give his name ma'am."

She paused, biting her lip while thinking who might visit her here at this time of the year.

"I can send the lad away?"

"The lad?" She raised her eyebrows. "You would send away a young boy." She looked at him incredulously, Jarron was not as good of a steward as Rolf had been. "Take me to him."

"But he might be dangerous!" Sansa was much Taller, and stared him down. "He's this way my lady." Jarron led on, to whom ever was waiting for her at the gates.

* * *

Sansa found herself looking at a tall boy in his early teenage years. His riding garb was that of a northerner's, simple and plain but effective in the job it had been created for. Presently, he had his hood raised and was feeding oats to his chestnut mare. Along with a guard Sansa approached the boy, she doubted highly that one so young was an assassin sent to kill her. The boy turned around as he heard footsteps approaching, to Sansa's delight the mysterious young man was Cedric.

"Mother!" He beamed at her with a large toothy grin. He had grown handsome, much like his mother but with more manly features. His hair was short, brown and curled. His dark blue eyes glittered with excitement as he was pulled into the arms of his mother.

"My boy." She muttered as she stroked his dark hair."My first boy! What are you doing here?"

"I've come to live with you Mother, is that acceptable?"

"Of course!" She held him tighter now, lest he leave again. "But why are you here? what about Robb, why did he send you away?" He looked embarrassed with himself.

"He didn't." He continued when Sansa looked fearful, worried that Cedric had run away and would have to return. "He knows I'm here I just wanted to get away."

"Why, were you being mistreated by that woman?" Sansa referred to Talisa, the new wife of Robb after Myrcella had died in the child bed.

"No! Lady Talisa is quite lovely, It's the child! she won't stop wailing!"

"Child?"

"Child?"

"Oh yes, lady Stark bore a daughter three fortnights ago." This was wonderful news, Robb had wanted a child for so long each time with Myrcella had been a disappointment for both. The only living child born of that union had proved fatal for the sweet princess. Her babe, now aged two was healthy. Little Ned would be lord of Winterfell yet.

"Her name?" Sansa expected her to have been named for their mother.

"They have called her Myrcella."

* * *

That night Sansa allowed her boys to meet for the first time, though Cedric had met Leon when he was still a baby the younger of her sons would doubtless not remember the encounter. Next to one another Sansa realized how alike in many ways her two sons looked. Curly hair and the same dazzling blue eyes.

Cedric told little Leon tall tales of foes he had slain, Maester Sam translated for him no doubt adding some truth into the claim that Cedric had slain a giant. Nether the less her younger son's eyes sparkled at his brother's words, clearly yearning for such adventures himself.

It soon became time for Leon to go to bed, and despite his protests that he could stay awake longer Cedric needed sleep too his journey had been a long one and besides the lad was yawning constantly at that point.

Of course Cedric had no room of his own to sleep in, so for the time being she had allowed him the use of Breanna & Alessa's old room, the the two were still in King's Landing. Enjoying the life of two young courtiers. Sansa of course looked forward to seeing the two again soon, perhaps she would spend some time in King's Landing soon.

Once tucked into bed by Sansa, Cedric fell asleep instantly. It was hard to think that he was thirteen already. She mused that she would have to find him a suitable match soon. Though the matter would have to be discussed with the King, he got final say in who married who this close in the line of succession.

Sansa left her son to sleep then, returning two her own chambers to sleep.

Strangely her thoughts turned to Willas Tyrell as she fell asleep, wondering what the handsome knight might be doing now.

A/N: So sad to say but this is the penultimate chapter, there will be an epilogue. Not much more story wise will be happening however just tieing up loose ends at this point. Please review and favorite if you desire.

I'd also like to thank everyone who's supported this fic, you reviews and follows meant a lot to me and have really kept me motivated to continue writing this story, not much more to say than I hope you enjoy the end...

-Phillipe.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Five, Final

To Lose A Crown

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Chapter Twenty-Five, Final.

He and his son had been riding for just over two-weeks with little rest now. And despite the fact they were only a league away from Casterly Rock now, it felt he and his offspring yet had far to go. Both were weary from the long days of travel, and both could not wait for the creature comforts of a keep like Casterly. They rode for an hour more, and just as it was getting dark with the sky filling with stars.

"Father look!" called Lucas from behind him, startling his father slightly as he had been in a slight daze.

He looked at what his son was pointing to, he had not seen the keep itself going on for about twelve years now. It was still as ostentatious as the Lannisters demanded, showing their status as noble and wealthy citizens of Westeros. The sun had set now and the Lord and his son began to fear they may not be allowed entrance into the keep that night.

"What if we have to sleep outside father!?"

"Hush my boy, I know the Lady here well she will not turn us away." They both rode up to the keep gates and were greeted by the steward of Casterly Rock.

"What business have you here?" He asked gruffly. "It's over late for anyone to visit."

"I am here to see the lady Sansa." He stated. "She will want to see me."

"Is that so?" Asked the steward sarcastically. "And who might you be, that my lady will want to see so badly."

"Lord Willas Tyrell of Highgarden."

* * *

Sansa had been surprised to hear she had a visitor so late, let alone two. She was even more surprised, and pleased to find out that visitor was none other than Willas. She had commanded that both he and his son be allowed entrance immediately, and that Leon and Cedric be summoned from the library to meet with the two travelers. It was fortunate that they had not yet supped for the night and their would be plenty for their unexpected guests too.

She now waited on the seat next to that of her son's, Leon had to formally greet the guests. Sansa had some concerns about the whole affair, as he had yet to receive visitors himself. The doors to the grand hall groaned open steadily. Sansa found herself staining to look eager like a young girl once again.

She saw him, he looked weary from the road but his eyes still sparkled the same as when they'd met. Sansa had never met either of Willas' children. The boy before her looked almost identical to his father. They both knelt before Leon, who seemed eager to have visitors.

"Arise my lords." Leon said in his strangely numb voice. They both came to their feet and smiled.

"My father and I both grateful you allowed us entrance to you keep at such a late hour, Lord Lannister." Leon looked at Sansa, she repeated Lucas' words with her hands so that Leon would understand.

"My mother tells me you are grateful, there is no need I would never turn away such an old friend of my mother's." He continued. "Perhaps, you and I should leave our dear parents to the formalities, would you care to join myself and my brother for dinner?"

"Of course my lord."

Sansa was left alone with Willas now, neither said anything instead they looked at one another studying their appearances. Neither of them were as young as they had been on the summers day nearly fifteen years ago, Willas had been Thirty and one then these days he considered himself an old man likely unworthy of the still youthful looking Sasna.

"Sasna." He whispered, he had planned for this moment each night during the fortnight it had taken him to get to Casterly. He approached her cautiously, unsure weather or not such a gesture would be seen as acceptable. She surprised him then by standing up from the chair she had occupied and running into his arms, winding him slightly.

"I've missed you." She muttered into his ear, as she held him. "Why are you here?" She questioned pulling back from him now.

"Because-" He felt his heart thump with nerves, he took a deep breath before continuing. "Because I've come here to ask for your hand in marriage." Sansa looked surprised, then sad.

"I-I'm sorry Willas." She turned away from him so he could not see the tears starting to form in her eyes. "I Can't."

"Why?"

"I have to stay here with Leon, until he's old enough to rule by himself." This was a half-truth Sansa still felt guilty in the knowledge that she'd been caught all those years ago by Lancel in the garden kissing the man behind her. She often wondered if that had been the final nail in the coffin that caused his death.

"I see." She could hear him sniff slightly behind her. "Lucas and I will ride for Highgarden immediately, I don't wish to intrude on your hospitality any further."

"You may stay the night, Willas." She looked at him pleadingly.

"I Can't." He repeated Sansa's words back to her, and she understood.

They both went in search of their respective children finding all three on the battlements where Cedric was giving a tour of the castle. It was amazing the see the camaraderie that had blossomed between the three in the hour or two they had known each other. Willas took Lucas aside explaing that they would be leaving. His son looked disappointed, understanding exactly what had happened. As father and son headed for the stables Lucas shot daggers at Sansa.

Then, she was by herself on the battlements, watching as two figures on horseback road into the distance.

* * *

Later when Leon had been sent to bed, with many questions as to why the nice young lord and his father were not to stay the night after all. Sansa sat by the fireside with Cedric doing needle craft as he wrote a letter.

"Why did lord Willas leave so suddenly mother?"

"It doesn't matter." She dismissed quickly before changing the subject. "Who are you writing to?"

"It doesn't matter." He responded wryly. Sansa sighed at the petulance of her eldest son, deciding there was no point lying to the boy.

"He asked for my hand and I refused him."

"Why mother?"

"I had to." She sighed putting down her needle work, and staring mournfully into the fire. When Cedric looked like he was going to question her further she cut him off. "In his last letter Lancel requested I stay here with Leon until he is old enough."

"I see." He muttered sounding defeated. Sansa managed to lift her needle work again briefly before being interrupted again by her son. "But what if-"

Sansa groaned she could only imagine what idea Cedric had cooked up in his head.

"-I took on the responsibility for you." She was about to quickly dismiss the idea, only to consider it for a moment. Cedric was fourteen now, the age most northern boys considered themselves men, with the assistance of Maester Samwell he would be more than suitable a guardian for Leon. And she could visit a few times a year the journey after all only took two weeks, and the roads were not dangerous during the summer months.

She could feel the smile spreading across her face, one that was mirrored by Cedric.

* * *

The Inn was not too far from Casterly rock, Sansa figured it was her best bet for where Willas and his son had retired for the night. Escorted by her personal guard and Cedric, who'd wanted to see how things turned out. They approached the building it was well lit and filled with the sounds of raucous patrons.

Followed by her son, and one guard as to not cause alarm, Sansa entered she searched the room for Willas to no avail, either he was in a room for the night or had chosen to put as much distance between himself and Casterly as he could. Sansa spotted a busty looking bar wench, as had her son. She waved the woman over.

"Ten silver for a room." The woman drawled in her common accent.

"I'm not here to rent."

"Then why are you here." She scoffed rudely.

"Hold your tongue whore or I'll remove it, you speak to the lady of Casterly Rock." The young woman paled.

"I'm sorry my lady." She dropped to the floor. "It's the ale I don't want to offend."

"It's alright, please get up."

"Yes my lady."

"Has Lord Tyrell and his son rented a room here tonight." She looked at the guard curiously.

"They in any trouble?"

"None." The woman sighed with relief.

"Alright, upstairs last door on the right.

* * *

Sansa left the guard and her son in the Tavern downstairs as she went in search of the room the wench had told her about. She found it but could hear no sounds coming from the inside. She knocked gently and heard footsteps within, followed by a mildly perturbed voice.

"As I told you already!" Willas bellowed as he opened the door. "Myself nor my son need your company!" His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he realized it was Sansa. "What are you doing here?" He was't angry just genuinely shocked.

"I-I" She didn't know how to start.

"Come in." The room was large, likely the best in the whole Inn.

"Where is Lucas."

"He has his own room, boys his age like their privacy." He gave a week smile and she caught his meaning. "Sansa, why are you here." he asked again softly.

"I wanted to apoligise for earlier, and tell you that I've changed my mind."

"Really?" He smiled widely.

"Yes!" She returned his smile as he lifted her up and spun her in the air.

For the night no more words were spoken between the two who remained in the room together all night, when dawn came a somewhat hungover Septon was quickly found to preside over the quick ceremony held in the tavern. Leon had been escorted down from the castle along with Maester Samwell, who cried and his wife Gilly with Little Sam.

The news of the union spread quickly, ravens were sent to the King and Queen, to Robb and any others who cared to hear the news. With her new husband, Sansa moved to Highgarden visiting her sons in Casterly rock regularly, almost always stopping on the way to see her beloved girls as well.

They lived happily together for many years...

... The End.

Author's note: Is this the end? Thank you all who read this reviewed, followed or favorited. I'd like to give a special thanks to Marina Ka-Fai, who's really been a massive support of the story way back when in the beginning.

I'm gonna miss writing this, much love Phillipe.


	28. Epilogue

To Lose a Crown.

A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.

Epilogue,

Bells rung out as the people of King's Landing cheered for their Prince Steffon and his bride outside the sept of Baelor. She was young, and beautiful her soft golden curls falling loosely to her waist. The ceremonial robes of white and gold glittered in the summer sunshine. Many lords had grumbled and cursed when the announcement that Prince Steffon was to marry his cousin Alessa Lannister was announced. All these Lords of course had sons and daughters they wanted to pair with the couple instead.

The now Princess Alessa turned and and smiled at her mother Sansa, who long ago promised to allow her children to marry whomever they chose. In her arms Sansa held her smallest, and most precious daughter Anora, who's sparkling blue eye's and chestnut hair were not that of her mother's. Only two now the child would never know her father. Willas had died peacefully over a year ago. While her heart would never heal, she was happy in the knowledge that he and her other loved ones were waiting in that strange Godswood she visited all that time ago.

Behind he mother was Breanna, who despite being a proud warrior had been coaxed into wearing a dress for her sister's wedding rather than her usual armor. Cedric and Leon stood next to their sister, Cedric adventurous and bold often set sail to far away lands bringing tales of his travels back from Essos, and more often than not tales of the Targaryens to his brother King Gendry.

The King and Queen wore cloth of gold and watched joyfully as their first born and his new bride waved at the crowd. Though both were still pained greatly by the death of little Duncan. With them were the younger Princes and Princesses. Robert, who was as unlike his name sake as possible. Ellyott and Eddard who threw rice at the happy couple as their two young sisters smiled the splitting image of their mother the Queen.

Sasna Took in the whole scene with a huge grin on her face, despite still wearing widow's black.

All seemed right with her little world, her daughter would one day be queen.

Her other children were happy and healthy.

All Westeros was at peace.

Little did she know, in seventeen short years, nothing would be the same again.

Beyond the wall the dead were walking, across the see Dragons were moving...

Authors note:

Really I can't resist! I will be writing another story based in this universe, might be a while though so look out! -Phillipe.


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